A Face From the Past
by Awen1923
Summary: AU. A man from Diego's past threatens to destroy everything he has worked for, and perhaps Zorro himself.
1. Chapter 1

**A Face From the Past**

Disclaimer: This story was written purely to tickle my fancy. These characters do not belong to me.

* * *

Lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating the plaza in white light and silhouetting the dark figure that crept across the tiled roofs of a small pueblo. The man was dressed entirely in black. His face was partially hidden by a black mask and sombrero and a midnight cloak hung behind him. Black gloves and a Toledo blade completed the masked man's attire.

The dark clad figure lowered his frame to a window set in the wall of a small building. Glancing through the opening, the man saw a single candle on the desk, illuminating the officer who sat in the chair. With the stealth of a fox he slipped through the window and approached the man. He gently picked up the saber that lay against the wall and unsheathed it, placing the tip to the small of the man's back. "Hola, Commandante. Working late I see."

The man stiffened as he felt the point of the blade make contact with his uniform shirt. At the sound of the deep voice, he turned his head to glare at the man behind him. "Zorro! What do you want?" The Commandante demanded.

"Come now, Commandante. I thought you were smarter than that. You know why I am here." Zorro said, a grin spreading across his face.

The Commandante stared at the masked man. "I suppose you want me to lower the taxes. I simply cannot. I…we need the money to improve this pueblo."

"I am sure that is what you believe Commandante. Still, I think the people of this pueblo would like to decide if 'improvements' need to be made." Zorro pressed the blade harder against Capitaín Monastario's back. "I expect you will change your mind about the taxes. Don't you think, Capitán?" Zorro asked as he started to back away. The moment Monastario felt the pressure of the blade dissipate he spun around reaching for his sword. His hand found only air.

A low laugh reached his ears and he turned to see Zorro sitting on the edge of the window holding Monastario's army issued weapon. Zorro grinned at the man before him and saluted. "I enjoyed our conversation, Capitán. Perhaps we could continue it another time, but I think I would like to get home before the rains start." Zorro tossed the weapon on the wood planked floor and leapt off the window, his black cap sailing behind him.

The Commandante slammed his fist against his desk and swore to himself he would make Zorro pay for his humiliation. Never before had anyone dared to challenge him! He would make Zorro pay, he promised himself.

* * *

The streets of Los Angeles were bare, the drizzling morning forcing its occupants to take shelter. The tavern was full, those who lived outside of the pueblo scrambled into the warm building to escape the downpour. Don Fernando entered the tavern and surveyed the common room. A slight smile crept across his features as his eyes settled on two dons who sat at a table with their deaf-mute servant. Don Fernando quickly made his way to the table and greeted his old friends, "Buenas tardes, señores. Do you mind if I join you?" 

Don Diego glanced at the man before him and nodded his head in greeting. Don Alejandro looked up to see the face of his friend, "Buenas tardes, Don Fernando. I would be delighted to have you join us. What brings you to the pueblo?"

"Oh, nothing too important. I went by your hacienda and Jose told me that I could find you in town."

"Is there something I can help you with?" Don Alejandro asked as he motioned to the serving girl to bring a drink for his friend.

"No, I just wanted to see a friend. The hacienda has been quiet since Anna Maria took Mercedes to visit her abuelos. I fear I have grown bored." Don Fernando said, nodding politely to the serving girl who sat his drink on the table.

Don Alejandro looked at his friend. He had the feeling he wanted to discuss something with him, but not in front of Diego. A plan came to Alejandro's mind, "you must dine with us this evening." Don Alejandro glanced at his son, "I will send Diego ahead to tell the cooks. I know it is raining, but it seems to have slacked off. I will not take no for an answer."

"Gracias, I would enjoy that." Don Fernando said. He wanted to talk to his friend and this would give him the chance. He smiled gratefully at the old Don, knowing he had sensed his friend's need to see him alone.

Don Diego finished his drink and motioned for his servant to follow. He was not looking forward to the ride home, but knew his father wanted to talk to Don Fernando alone. He nodded toward the two older men, "I will see you at home Father, Don Fernando." The two men watched Diego maneuver through the crowd trying to avoid the other patrons, his servant trailing close behind. Diego moved through the crowd easily and stepped out into the rain shrouded afternoon.

Don Alejandro marveled at how graceful his son could sometimes be. Although never awkward, his son rarely moved with assurance and speed. "I will never understand that boy." Don Alejandro sighed. He turned toward his friend, "What was it you needed to discuss with me?"

Diego walked into the humid afternoon. The rain had stopped, but the air was damp and hot. His clothes clung to his body and he knew the ride home would not be enjoyable. Diego walked up to his palomino and rubbed her neck. "Are you ready to go, girl?" In one fluid motion he mounted the light colored horse and waited for Bernardo to mount his chestnut mare.

A commotion near the garrison caught Diego's attention. Five soldiers, including Captain Monastario, were mounted and talking to large Sergeant Garcia. Diego nudged his horse in the direction of the soldiers, "Buenos tardes, señores. Where are you headed in such unpleasant weather?"

Captain Monastario turned to look at the man who had just spoken. He met the humored face of Diego de la Vega. Diego, he had to admit to himself, appeared the perfect caballero. He was polite and well-educated, his manners and willingness to help others making him a well-liked man with the Dons and peons alike. Diego was tall and lean, with strong shoulders that spoke of a noble background. His dark complexion and dark hair matched his clear hazel eyes to perfection. He sported a caballero's mustache- thin and well-kept. For a man who did little in life, Diego appeared fit. This had always set uneasy with Monastario. He had known men like Diego before, and while not necessarily fat, the men always looked weak. In appearance, however, Diego resembled a man of action. Monastario never understood why no one else ever noticed this about the quiet man.

Monastario did not especially hate this Don, but something about this particular man annoyed him. Maybe it was the fact that he was the son of Alejandro, and unlike his father, Diego showed his contempt with silent, disapproving glances. Monastario sometimes wished Diego would rant like his father. At least he would know where the man stood. With Diego, it was nearly impossible to know what the he was truly thinking. While his smile always appeared friendly, Monastario was certain he would sometimes catch a look a displeasure, or maybe amusement, in the man's sharp hazel eyes. His eyes were another mystery to Monastario. For a quiet, light spoken man, Diego's eyes always seemed fiery, as though they held all the man's passion. His eyes reminded him of someone else, but Monastario could not recall who.

Monastario's musing was cut short by the deep voice of his sergeant. "The capitán is going to Monterey for a month. I will be in charge until his return."

Diego smiled at the large sergeant. "Well," Diego said, his voice light with humor, "I hope you have a safe trip." Diego turned his horse and started toward the plaza gates. He turned in the saddle and smiled, "Do stay dry. It seems like there is more rain yet to come."

Monastario glared at Diego's retreating form. He would never understand Diego. Diego would never openly insult or berate him, yet he always managed to make Monastario feel like there was something more behind his words. He shrugged and turned his horse in the general direction Diego and his mozo had just taken. "Sergeant, I expect Zorro to be behind a cell door when I return. And try to keep everything in order."

Sergeant Garcia saluted and turned on his heels to issue orders. With his afternoon work completed, the sergeant headed toward the tavern door. He had barely made it up the steps when Corporal Reyes shouted at him from across the barracks. Sighing, Garcia cast one last glance at the inn and headed toward his corporal. A man's work is never done, the sergeant thought to himself.

**TBC**


	2. Chapter 2

Don Fernando looked into his drink. A hand worked its way through greying hair before he finally answered. "It is Feliciana. I am afraid she may not return. She has never loved California like I have. She wants to stay in Spain, I think. That is where her family is. Where she thinks she belongs," Don Fernando sighed. "I don't know what I will do if she doesn't return. I can not go to Spain. I have worked too hard for my land."

Don Alejandro smiled sympathetically at the don. "She loves you very much Fernando. I am sure she will come back." Alejandro tried to reassure his friend.

Fernando shook his head slightly and frowned. "I hope you are right Alejandro, but now that the kids are grown, she has nothing here but me."

"That is the only reason she needs," Alejandro told his friend.

"Lets pray you are right." Fernando forced a smile as he stood and motioned for his friend to follow him, "Now let's go have dinner."

The two dons left the inn and headed into the drizzle outside. The plaza streets were a thick red mud and little streams coursed along the outer reaches of the pueblo. The sky was grey, dark clouds loomed to the west threatening still more rain. Alejandro glanced toward the approaching downpour. "We had best hurry if we don't want to get caught in that storm."

Don Fernando followed Alejandro's gaze to the west. "Sí, I believe you are right. I don't think it would be a good idea to get caught in that storm. It looks like it is going to be a bad one."

The two friends mounted and rode toward the hacienda. The ride home took longer than they had expected. The road was muddy and almost washed away in areas from the previous rains. Debris lay scattered across the road forcing the two men to carefully navigate the trail. By the time the two friends made it to the hacienda the first drops of rain had started to fall. The wind howled savagely at the doors and windows of the hacienda. "It is good to be home." Alejandro remarked as he took his hat and gloves off.

"It looks like we made it just in time." Don Fernando said as he pointed to the window. Alejandro turned to see a steady downpour. The wind drove the small trees that lined the patio to bend over nearly double, some of their smaller branches snapping due to the onslaught of wind and rain.

"Sí, I believe you are right." Don Alejandro agreed. He walked into the sitting room and offered his friend a drink. The wine was from his orchards and Alejandro was proud of it. It was considered to be one of the finest wines in California. The two dons seated themselves and talked of old times as they waited for dinner.

The two men had just finished their drinks when Maria walked in to announce that dinner was ready. "Gracias, Maria. Do you know where Diego has gone?"

Maria shook her head, "No, I am sorry Don Alejandro. I have not seen him since he told me we would be having a guest for dinner."

Don Alejandro smiled, "That is all right. I am sure he is in his room. I will go and get him." Don Alejandro turned to Don Fernando. "If you will excuse me. Help yourself to another drink. I will only be a minute," Alejandro said as he made his way to his son's room.

Alejandro knocked on the wooden door. "Diego, supper is ready." Alejandro waited for a reply but none came. Worried he knocked again. "Diego, are you in there? Diego!" Alejandro opened the door to his son's room. The room was empty. Alejandro glanced into the darkened area.. A single candle burned on the dark mahogany desk and the bed was made. Books lined the numerous shelves that lay against the far wall. Seeing nothing that looked out of place, Alejandro closed the door and went down stairs.

Where could he be? Alejandro thought as he walked into the front room. Don Fernando looked up to see a worried expression on Alejandro's face. If the furrow of the old Don's brow was any indication the man seemed to be in deep thought.

Afraid something was wrong Don Fernando walked over to his friend. "What is wrong Alejandro?"

Alejandro looked at his friend and shook his head. "Nothing I hope. It is just that no one has seen Diego and he isn't in his room. I don't know where he could be." Suddenly Don Alejandro smiled. "Bernardo will know," he exclaimed as he went to search for his son's man servant.

Alejandro found Bernardo in the kitchen helping one of the cooks. Alejandro walked up to Bernardo and tapped his shoulder to get his attention. Indicating Bernardo should follow him, Alejandro headed into the library. It took several minutes for Alejandro to get his question across. When Bernardo finally understood he simply shrugged and indicated that Diego was probably asleep. Alejandro shook his head no and thanked Bernardo.

Bernardo watched as Alejandro left. He did not know where Diego was and decided to look in the cave. Slipping quietly through the entrance near the fire place, Bernardo entered the cave. A quick glance around told him Diego was not there, nor had he been recently. Bernardo headed to Tornado's stall and rubbed down the black beast. Refilling his water and feed, Bernardo gave Tornado one last pat and left the cave. Bernardo was now worried. He had no idea where Don Diego was. He had not told him he was going anywhere. Especially in the storm that was now raging outside. Bernardo slipped back through the entrance in the library and made his way to the sala, hoping to find Diego there.

Alejandro apologized to Don Fernando. "Lo siento. It seems you will have to dine alone tonight. Diego seems to have gone missing. I just hope he isn't caught out in the storm." Alejandro said as he looked out the window. The storm was in full force. The plants on the plaza swayed violently and water ran in tiny rivers along the gate and walls that surrounded the plaza. Lightning lit the sky, followed closely by the loud clap of thunder.

"Do not worry about me, Alejandro. It is Diego we need to worry about. I am not going to dine until both you and Diego are here to dine with me," Fernando reassured his friend.

"Gracias. I am going to gather a few of the ranch hands and we'll meet back here. Let Maria know what we are doing." Alejandro asked as he went onto the patio. Rain drenched his face and ran down the back of his coat. The wind whipped about his body and he stumbled. Catching himself on a tree, he stopped to look around. Limbs lay scattered across the plaza and the fields. The trees groaned under the onslaught of rain and wind. The clouds were a deep purple, and flashes illuminated the sky every few seconds. By the time Alejandro had reached the vaqueros, he was soaking wet.

Juan, a tall dark haired man, looked up to see the door open. He quickly jumped up when he saw who stood in the doorway. "Don Alejandro, what brings you out here at this hour and during a storm like this? We have taken good care of the horses..."

"No, it is nothing like that. I just need your help. I am afraid you will be wet, but it can't be helped. Diego is missing. We need to look for him." Don Alejandro interrupted. His answers came out in one long string as though getting it over quickly would make it less real.

"What! Don Diego has not returned. He said he would not be more than a quarter hour. He should have been back." Juan said. His face was creased in worry as he looked behind Don Alejandro to the storm outside.

Confused at what Juan said Alejandro asked, "What do you mean he should have been back? Where did he go?"

Juan shrugged his broad shoulders, "I do not know. A messenger came shortly after Diego arrived. When Diego read the note he seemed upset or maybe angry. He had me saddle his horse, and he said he would be back before you and Don Fernando arrived."

Alejandro paced as he listened to Juan. What could the note have said? Where was Diego now? Alejandro questioned himself as Juan finished. Alejandro's pacing quickened as a thought came to him. What if Diego was injured?

Alejandro stopped in front of Juan. His face was creased with worry and Juan could see he was afraid for his son. "Juan, do you know what the note was about?"

Juan sadly shook his head no. "Perhaps if I had asked we would know where Diego was. Something in the letter upset Diego. I have never seen his mood change so quickly. He almost seemed like someone else."

"What do you mean he seemed like someone else?" Alejandro questioned.

Juan wasn't sure how to explain it to Alejandro. He rubbed a hand through his dark hair before continuing. "It is hard to explain. Instead of asking me to saddle his horse, he told me to saddle it. He moved different. Like he had a purpose and knew what it was." Juan sighed, "Like I said it is hard to explain."

"Gracias, Juan. We will have to find out what the letter said after we find Diego. Would you gather a handful of men to help me look for Diego? When you have the men gathered meet me at the hacienda." Don Alejandro turned and left the shelter. The storm seemed no better. Alejandro quickly made his way to the hacienda and shook off his gloves and sombrero. He didn't bother going to his room to change. He knew he would only get wet again.

Don Fernando met Alejandro at the door. He now wore his sombrero and gloves and stood pacing the floor of the sala. "Are the men ready Alejandro?" Fernando asked as Alejandro came in out of the storm.

Alejandro smiled appreciatively at his friend's concern. The number of friends Diego had always amazed him. Class did not seem to matter to Diego. Dons, soldiers, peons, Indians, and clergyman all numbered among the throng of people Diego considered his friends, and Alejandro had no doubt that he would also find the same to be true in Spain.

Alejandro shook his head, "Almost. They are gathering the horses now. When they are ready they will meet us at the gates." Alejandro stopped for a moment and ran a hand through his steel grey hair. Water ran down the back of his neck and dripped to the floor. He turned back to his friend and briefly smiled, "You don't have to go. I will understand. It isn't pleasant outside and the trip may be long and hard."

Don Fernando met Alejandro's brown eyes, "I consider Diego to be a good friend. I could never forgive myself if he is hurt and I did nothing to try to help him. So yes, I am certain I want to go."

"I thought as much." Alejandro turned to peer out the window at the sound of horses. "Ah, that must be my vaqueros. Let's go."

Don Alejandro and Don Fernando stepped out into the storm. As they made there way across the plaza half a dozen riders stopped at the gate. A tall dark man dismounted and moved to what Alejandro and Fernando assumed was a pack horse. The man pulled a knife and quickly cut the strings that tied the bundle to the saddle.

Alejandro had nearly reached the gate when the man tossed the bundle to the ground. Much to Alejandro and Fernando's surprise the bundle groaned on impact. The rider mounted once again and turned his horse. Alejandro cried out for them to hold, but the men were already gone, quickly disappearing in the downpour. Only the horse remained, its golden coat splattered with mud.

Don Alejandro and Don Fernando ran the short distance to the gate. They knelt in the mud beside the blanket. Don Fernando reached for the corner and carefully pulled back the fabric. His startled gasp caused Alejandro to turn.

**TBC**


	3. Chapter 3

"Madre de Dios, quick we must get him into the house." Alejandro grabbed Diego around his broad shoulders as Fernando positioned himself at the man's feet. Just as they were ready to lift Diego, Juan and his men rode up.

"What has happened?" Juan asked as he caught a glimpse of the man in the blanket. In the same breath Juan turned to a young man beside him. "Quick, go get the doctor. Tell him to hurry. We will be at the hacienda." A nickering caught Juan's attention. He turned to the sight of the tired horse. He instantly recognized it as Diego's palomino. "Take care of Diego's horse," he instructed the youth, who stood with wide-eyes staring at the battered form of his master and friend.

Juan didn't bother to make sure the young man did as he was told; instead he knelt and took Don Fernando's place so he and Alejandro could carry their bundle into the hacienda. Bernardo met the men at the door and quickly guided them to Diego's room. Alejandro was surprised to find that Diego's bed had been turned down and that several lamps were strategically placed to allow the most light into the room. Alejandro smiled at Bernardo—he seemed to have a sixth sense about his master.

Bernardo began to remove the blanket from around Diego. A knock sounded at the door and Fernando rose to open it. Maria stood nervously before the door; Fernando took the basin of clean water and the bundle of rags and thanked Maria. She looked at the still form on the bed and crossed her breast, uttering a small prayer for the man she considered a friend.

Fernando turned back to see Alejandro helping Bernardo roll Diego over and pull the blanket from beneath him. Alejandro was surprised at how heavy Diego felt. He knew part of the weight came from the wet clothes but not all of it.

When Diego was free of the blanket, the three men began to clean the mud off his body. Bernardo left the room to replace the now dirty water. Alejandro looked at Diego and noticed a growing red spot on his shirt. "Fernando, will you help me take off Diego's shirt?" Alejandro asked as he began unbuttoning the once white shirt.

"Sí, I will lift him up and you can take off his shirt," Fernando said. He moved behind Diego and gently sat him up. Diego moaned at the motion, his face wrinkling with the pain it caused.

"Easy, mi hijo. It will only be another minute. Doctor Hernandez should be here soon." Alejandro finished his work just as Bernardo returned. He took the cloth offered to him and began to wipe at the dirt and blood on his son's chest. He wondered at the muscular physique of his son, and what seemed to be several old scars.

_I don't remember Diego being hurt this many times_, Alejandro thought as he traced a long thin scar on his son's shoulder. A small, circular wound on Diego's arm caught both Alejandro and Fernando's attention. Alejandro turned to Fernando, "This…this looks like a gun shot wound," Alejandro said his voice shaking a little at the knowledge. "But when was Diego ever shot? How did he get all these scars?" he asked his old friend, knowing he would get no definite answer.

Fernando shrugged as he glanced at the scars that adorned Diego's upper body. "Maybe in Spain. You said he never told you much about his time there," Fernando suggested.

Alejandro shook his head and ran a hand through his hair, "Some of these scars are only a few years old." _What secrets are you keeping from me, mi hijo? Do you not trust me?_

Alejandro rubbed a suddenly heavy hand through his hair trying to clear his thoughts. He sighed and returned his attention to the long, shallow wound that ran across Diego's clearly defined chest. The skin around the cut was red and angry. Alejandro dipped the rag in the water and used it to loosen the dried blood. Diego tried to turn his body away from Alejandro. "No, mi hijo. I must do this," Alejandro said as he placed a reassuring hand on Diego's shoulder.

Alejandro finished cleaning the wound and placed the bloodied rag on the nightstand. He took a clean rag and dipped it into the water, wringing out the excess moisture before placing it on Diego's forehead. Diego had begun to run a slight fever and Alejandro wanted to keep it from rising. When the cloth began to get warm Alejandro would wipe the sweat from his son's face, rewet the rag and place it back on Diego's forehead.

Don Fernando remained behind Diego, adding support to the young man's body. He could see several large bruises beginning to appear. A dark line ran across the left side of Diego's jaw, and disappeared into his hairline. Diego's bottom lip was split open and had already started to swell. Fist sized areas on his chest and stomach were beginning to turn a dark purple, and while not deep, the wound on his chest still oozed blood. Fernando did not envy the pain the boy would feel later. He had taken a beating once and he had never forgotten the stiffness and soreness that accompanied it.

Fernando pulled out his watch and tilted it to catch the light of the lanterns. "Doctor Hernandez should be here…" Fernando stopped when he heard footsteps outside the door. He watched the handle turn and said a small prayer when he saw a grey haired, aging man enter the room.

Alejandro stood and offered the man his hand. "Thank you for coming. It seems," Alejandro gestured to the moaning figure on the bed, "that my son is in need of your care."

The doctor glanced at the young man before responding, "Yes, I believe you are right. Could you have Bernardo get me some boiling water and a cup? Some fresh rags, too," Doctor Hernandez said as he moved across the room to Diego's side. He felt Diego's forehead and looked into each hazel eye before examining the injury on Diego's chest. Doctor Hernandez could not help noticing the number of wounds on Diego that he had not treated. Some appeared to be several years old, while others only months old.

He shrugged his shoulders and returned to his examination, he would have to ask Diego about them later. He removed a small vial and placed a cloth over the opening. Tipping the bottle on edge, he let several drops absorb into the material. He gently wiped the laceration on his patient's chest. Diego's muscles tightened at the burning sensation, and a moan escaped his swollen lips when the doctor moved the rag across his chest. Doctor Hernandez smiled at Diego. He doubted Diego saw the gesture, but the doctor knew Alejandro did. "It will be over soon Diego," Hernandez assured him. When he finished, he took out another cloth and folded it twice, creating a thick bandage. He wrapped the bandage in place and stood straight.

Tired muscles protested from being in the same position far too long. Doctor Hernandez placed his hands on his hips and stretched his back before addressing the three men in the room, "The wound shouldn't need stitches. Keep it clean and replace the bandages every day. When Diego wakes up have him drink the tea I brought. He should wake up soon, but let him sleep as long as possible. He is exhausted and his body took a beating, sleep is the best thing for him.

"He will probably be stiff and sore for a few days, at least until the bruising goes down some. If you can, let him soak in warm water with some salts I will give to Bernardo. Just let him rest and if his fever goes up just send someone for me. I will be back tomorrow to check on him." Doctor Hernandez gathered his supplies and left the bedroom.

Don Fernando waved his hand toward the door and nodded. Alejandro managed a small smile and followed the doctor, shutting the door behind him. When the two men made it to the bottom of the steps, Doctor Hernandez turned to Alejandro, "Do you know what has happened to him? Someone beat him badly." Doctor Hernandez knew Diego since he was a child and could think of no one who would wish Diego harm. He was a friend to almost everyone in the pueblo, from the Dons to the vaqueros and peons and even the Indians at the mission. Doctor Hernandez hated to see Diego hurt, and he wanted to know what had happened to the young man.

"I do not know. I sent him home to tell Maria to expect a guest for dinner. When Fernando and I returned home we thought Diego was in his room. When dinner was ready I went to tell Diego, but was unable to find him." Alejandro stopped for a moment and glanced at his son's door.

"Not even Bernardo knew where he was. When I went to gather some vaqueros, Juan said Diego had received a message and immediately left. He did not know where he had gone. Just as we were about to go looking for him, several men rode up and dropped a bundle wrapped in a blanket. It was Diego." Alejandro finished and wiped a hand across his brow. He pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to will away the headache that was forming.

Doctor Hernandez noticed Alejandro's frown, "You need to get out of your wet clothes, and have Don Fernando do the same. Then I want both of you to get some warm tea and food down you. There is nothing you can do for Diego, and getting sick will not help him. I will send Sergeant Garcia over as soon as I get back to the pueblo. We will straighten everything out. Diego has too many friends; someone will get those who did this." Doctor Hernandez stopped for a moment before continuing, "That reminds me. For now I don't want anyone to disturb Diego. You can tell the sergeant what you know and give him a description, but don't let him see Diego. I will check on him tomorrow afternoon and if I think everything is fine I will let the sergeant return."

Alejandro smiled at his friend, "Gracias. I appreciate all you have done. If you like you can stay for dinner. There is plenty. You can let the road dry before you leave." A sudden thought occurred to Alejandro, and he voiced it before the doctor could reply to his first question, "Why Sergeant Garcia? Where is Captain Monastario?"

Doctor Hernandez shook his head, "The Captain has left for Monterey. He should be back in a month or so. Now for your first question, as much as I would love to stay, I need to get back to the office. I will see you around two o'clock." Doctor Hernandez clasped Alejandro's hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze and shake before heading into the humid evening.

The doctor climbed into his carriage and set his medical bag on the seat next to him. He turned to look at Alejandro, "He will be fine. Just do as I said and don't forget to take care of yourself." Doctor Hernandez flicked the reins and got his team moving before Don Alejandro could reply.

**TBC**


	4. Chapter 4

Alejandro remained standing in the plaza after the doctor left. He glanced at the gate and the spot where the men had dumped his son. Who could have hated Diego enough to do this? _Will they try something again?_ Alejandro left the plaza and his unpleasant thoughts behind as he climbed the stairs to his son's bedroom.

Alejandro stopped outside of Diego's room. His hand reached for the doorknob but stopped before his fingers clasped the cold iron. Alejandro couldn't help but feel that he had somehow failed his son. Wasn't it his job as a father to keep his child safe?

A nagging question kept running through Alejandro's mind. _What if someone went after Diego to get to me?_ _Diego hasn't done anything to make enemies. He is liked by almost everyone in the pueblo. I, on the other hand, have made several enemies in my day._

Alejandro's thoughts were broken as the door before him opened. "Ahh! Alejandro, are you trying to kill me? My heart isn't what it used to be." Fernando said, placing his hand over his heart. He stepped back into the room and gave a slight wave of his hand, "Never mind my heart, Diego is awake and he…"

Alejandro did not let his friend finish before he swept past him and knelt beside his son's bed. "Diego, how do you feel?"

Diego tried to give his father a reassuring smile, but his cut lip only allowed for a crooked grin. Diego's voice came out soft and raspy, "I am fine, father. You do not need to worry about me." Diego paused and looked his father over, "You don't look to good yourself."

Alejandro began to protest but stopped when he looked down at his suit. It was damp and wrinkled. Mud splattered the leggings and the front of his jacket. "I guess you are right, mi hijo. Our good friend here," Alejandro said gesturing to Don Fernando "doesn't seem to be fairing any better."

Don Fernando grinned, "I suppose you are right. If you will excuse me I would like to go change. I will see you soon Diego." Fernando gave Diego one last smile and turned to leave. Before he closed the door he peered back inside, "I will ask Maria to warm supper and bring Diego some broth, as well as the tea."

"Gracias, Fernando. You can use the bath if you wish. I will have Maria bring one of my suits for you to wear." Alejandro told his friend.

"Gracias, but there is no need. I have several suits with me. I wasn't sure how long I was going to stay so I packed a few things. Bernardo has already put my saddlebags in a guestroom. I will be back when supper is ready. Rest easy Diego."

Fernando shut the door and an uneasy quiet settled in the room. Neither man knew where to begin. It was Diego who finally broke the silence. "Lo siento. I never should have left without telling someone where I was going. That was…foolish of me." Alejandro could tell Diego's short speech had taken its toll.

"There is no need for you to apologize Diego. I am the one who should be sorry," Alejandro admitted.

Diego scrunched his brows together and rubbed his temples. "What should you be sorry for?"

Alejandro sighed, "I didn't protect you. You are my child. It is my job to see that you are safe. I should have known something was wrong. I should…"

Diego's firm voice broke Alejandro's confession, "I am a grown man, Father. You do not have to protect me. I did what I thought was best. Do not ever forget that, no matter what happens. I have always done what I thought was right. What I felt had to be done." Diego's voice trailed off at the end, exhaustion overtaking him.

Alejandro wanted to ask his son what he meant but merely said, "Rest now, mi hijo. I will bring you some broth in a little while. When you are strong enough you can tell me what happened." Alejandro stood and gave Diego's shoulder a firm squeeze.

Alejandro emerged from his son's room just as a knock resounded through the house. Assuming it was Sergeant Garcia, Alejandro made his way to the front door to great the corpulent soldier.

Alejandro was surprised to see a tall, dark-haired man standing in his sala. "Who might you be, Señor," Alejandro asked the stranger.

The young man bowed his head slightly, "I am sorry to disturb you and your house but I fear I am lost. I am on my way to Los Angeles. I was told it was only five miles to town, but I seem to have traveled several extra."

Alejandro took in the dress of the man. He wore the clothes of a caballero, a dark-blue suit with silver embroidery down the length of the jacket and pants. His sombrero was also dark blue, the same silver pattern was woven around the rim. Black riding gloves adorned his hands and black polished boots protected his feet.

The man was handsome. He was tall and lean, although broad at the shoulders. His dark, unruly hair fell across his brow and partially hid his light brown eyes. He wore a thin mustache as did many of the young caballeros, and his already tan skin was even darker from exposure to the California sun. The only mar on his features was a thin scar on his face.

"Los Angeles is only a few miles south. If you follow the road you should have no trouble finding the pueblo," Don Alejandro said.

"Gracias, Señor. Again I am sorry for disturbing your house. I will be on my way." The young man turned and left the house. His long stride carried him quickly to his horse. In one smooth movement, he mounted and turned his horse south. He nudged the mare into a gallop and disappeared from sight.

Don Fernando, who had just returned from his bath, turned to Alejandro. "Who was the young man?"

Alejandro shrugged his shoulders, "I do not know. He claims he was merely lost, but something didn't seem right." Alejandro looked out the window and across the plaza, "No matter, he is gone now. Let us go get some dinner."

Don Fernando smiled at his friend, "I was forced to wash before dinner, don't you think you could at least change."

Alejandro couldn't help but smile back. Fernando never liked solemn moments and always had something to offer to change the mood. "Perhaps you are right. I am going to change and check on Diego. Then I will be down for supper."

Alejandro returned down stairs twenty minutes later. "How is Diego?" Maria, the family-cook, asked as she set a plate of steaming paella in front of Don Alejandro.

"He is still sleeping. The tea Doctor Hernandez had Bernardo give him seems to be working. His fever is down, too. Bernardo is sitting with him for the moment." Alejandro replied.

Dinner was almost finished when another knock sounded at the door. A minute later, Manuel appeared in the dining room. "Perdon, señores. Sergeant Garcia is here to see you."

Alejandro nodded, "I will be there in a moment. Give the good sergeant a glass of wine while he waits."

"Sí, I will tell him." Manuel said as he turned to leave the kitchen. He stopped at the wine rack and removed a glass and a small bottle of wine for the sergeant. Everyone knew of Sergeant Garcia's taste for wine. He would often wander around the small inn talking to the occupants in order to receive a little wine. Diego was one of Sergeant Garcia's biggest contributors. The sergeant would always expect some wine and a light-hearted conversation from Diego.

Sergeant Garcia stood when Manuel entered. He was expecting Alejandro, but his disappointment soon faded when he saw the wine Manuel carried. The sergeant took the wine gratefully, "Gracias, Manuel. This is just what I needed after hearing what happened to Diego."

The sergeant uncharacteristically sipped his wine. He gently swirled the auburn liquid as he thought of poor Diego lying in bed, bruised and sore. Like all the others, he wondered who would have done this to Diego. He hadn't known Diego as long as some, but he was almost certain he had made no enemy in California. He had barely finished his first glass when Alejandro strode through the sala door, Don Fernando at his heels.

"Don Alejandro, Don Fernando." Sergeant Garcia greeted each man as he stood and placed his empty glass on a small pine table. "I would have been here sooner, but I wanted to send some men to search the hills. I know they aren't very good and Zorro will probably take care of it, but I had to do something for Diego…"

"That is quite alright Sergeant," Alejandro interrupted the nervous man and indicated he should take a seat. "You did everything right. Diego is still asleep and won't be able to talk with you until tomorrow or maybe the following day."

The usually cheerful Sergeant frowned, his round face wrinkled between his eyebrows and long creases raced down the corners of his mouth. "Diego is always there when I need him," the sergeant began, "and I want to be here now that he needs me. Diego has never needed anyone before, and I don't want to mess up the one chance I have to return all that he has done for me."

Alejandro started. Sergeant Garcia was right. His son had never needed anyone since his return from Spain. He may not be a fighter like Alejandro wanted, but he could never say his son was dependent on him or anyone else in California, except maybe Bernardo. Alejandro spoke quietly, "You are right Sergeant. Diego has never needed any of us until now, and I plan on finding those who did this to him." Alejandro's voice began to rise as a plan formed in his mind, "I am certain the other caballeros will help us look for these men. As soon as Doctor Hernandez returns and allows Diego to tell us who did this, we will ride out to capture them."

Don Fernando and Sergeant Garcia nodded in agreement. They spent the next few minutes determining who they would contact and when they would meet. It was decided that Don Edwardo, Don Carlos and Don Esteban, along with Alejandro, Don Fernando, and an accompaniment of soldiers would meet at Alejandro's after the afternoon siesta.

Alejandro walked Sergeant Garcia to the door. "Gracias, Sergeant. I appreciate all that you are doing. I could send some of my vaqueros to contact the other Dons if you would like."

The sergeant shook his head, "No, I want to do this. I will come back with Doctor Hernandez so I can take Diego's statement as soon as possible." Sergeant Garcia shook Don Alejandro's hand before mounting his horse and heading east toward Don Esteban's hacienda.

Alejandro turned to Don Fernando, "I think I will go relieve Bernardo so he can get some rest. You should get to bed also. Tomorrow will be a long day."

"I believe you are right. That is why I will come and sit with Diego around midnight," Fernando said, cutting off Alejandro's protests, "No arguments. You need your rest as much as I do. Now I will see you in a few hours."

The tall, grey-haired Don turned and headed up the wooden staircase. He briefly opened the door to Diego's room and wished him a goodnight, even though he knew Diego wouldn't hear him.

Don Fernando undressed and pulled on a nightshirt. He felt tired. Despite the morning rain, the day had started out pleasant. Don Fernando's worries about his wife were eased after his talk with Alejandro, but new worries soon replaced his old ones. He could not remember a more stressful afternoon. His aging body felt the results of the adrenaline rush his body received after first discovering Diego. The adrenaline was replaced by worry and anger, which weighed heavily upon his broad shoulders.

Aching muscles protested as he slid between the sheets and blew out the lantern. He stared out the window for a moment. Dark clouds obscured the stars and moon, leaving the earth dark and dreary. _Just like today,_ Fernando thought as he closed his eyes and tried to get a few hours of sleep before he traded with Alejandro.

**TBC**


	5. Chapter 5

Alejandro made his way up the stairs. He gripped the pine rail for support. His legs felt heavy and his entire body ached. Alejandro could only remember one other time he had felt so tired. The night his beloved Elena died. Although he knew Diego would be alright, he could not stop thinking of what life would be like without his son. Alejandro would never admit it, but in a way he was glad Diego was not a fighter. He had already lost one person he loved, he couldn't bear to lose another.

Alejandro opened the door to his son's room. The lanterns were turned down, and only a faint amount of light reflected in the room. Alejandro could see Bernardo asleep in the chair beside Diego's bed. He gently nudged Bernardo. Bernardo started and looked around the room with wide-eyes. Alejandro tapped his shoulder to get his attention. He pointed to the door and then to the bed. Bernardo understood and nodded. He patted Diego's shoulder before slipping quietly out of the room.

Alejandro sat in the chair Bernardo had just vacated. For several minutes he watched the even breathing of his only son, taking solace in the simple action. Alejandro gently stroked Diego's cheek, pushing a stray lock of hair from his eyes.

"If you would only talk to me Diego," Alejandro sighed. "Since you came home from Spain, you have been so distant."

Alejandro felt his son's forehead. It was cool to the touch. He readjusted Diego's covers before settling back into the deep brown leather chair. He closed his eyes and ran a hand through his steel grey hair. "Sergeant Garcia was right," Alejandro mused, "you have never needed anyone."

"That is not true, Father."

Alejandro opened his eyes and changed the subject, "Mi hijo, how are you feeling?"

Diego shifted in his bed and winced when his aching muscles protested. "I am fine Father. Just a little sore. I will better in a few days."

Alejandro took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Diego," Alejandro began, unsure of how to begin. "Diego, who did this to you and why?"

Diego closed his eyes briefly. His head throbbed and his entire body ached. "It is nothing to be concerned with Father. It is over. Let it be," Diego said, hoping his father would let things be until he could focus on the situation. The last thing he wanted was to say something he shouldn't.

Alejandro shook his head. Diego was doing it again. He was closing himself off from those who cared about him. "Let me help you Diego," Alejandro pleaded. The lanterns cast dark shadows on Alejandro's face as he spoke, "Do you not trust me? I merely want to help you."

Diego grimaced at the pain in his father's voice. He knew that his secrets hurt his father, but to see the pain so openly on his father's face hurt more than the beating he had taken several hours ago. "I am sorry Father. It is not you. But this is something I must work out for myself." Diego saw the hurt look in his father's eyes, and felt his chest constrict. How can I hurt him like this? Diego wondered as he spoke again, "Please Father."

"Alright," Alejandro asked. He rubbed his eyes with the palm of his hands. He felt tired. This was not the way the conversation was supposed to go. He wanted Diego to confide in him like a son should. He felt useless sitting here.

Diego watched as several emotions played across his father's features. He knew he knew he had hurt the Don's feelings, but Diego could not risk giving anything away. His past was just that, and Diego did not want his father to worry over something that was done years ago. Or so he thought.

Diego shifted, a hiss escaped through his clenched teeth. He closed his eyes for a moment to gather his thoughts. He couldn't just leave it like this. Diego feared he may have created a chasm he could never fully fill.

Diego sighed, sounding almost defeated. He would not risk alienating his father any further. He simply had to be careful what he told Alejandro. There was no need to tell the entire truth, Diego thought, just enough so Father will feel I have confided in him. Perhaps it will do some good to talk about it. I have carried this burden far to long.

Diego shifted, trying to find a comfortable position, but his body refused to cooperate. Every muscle ached, and his chest still hurt where a knife had cut a long path. "I will tell you what I can. But I will give you no names. This is between me and the other man."

Alejandro nodded, "Just tell me why. That will be enough for now."

"While I was studying in Spain I became good friends with Arturo de Amanza. He was a swordsman and very good at it. I would often watch him at his lessons," Diego said, a slight smile tugged at his mouth as he thought about his friend. "When he would duel, I was always beside him."

Diego's grin disappeared as he continued, "It was my last year, just before you called me home, and Arturo was going to duel a caballero who tried to court a lady he fancied. Arturo won," Diego said, his eyes burning with anger.

Alejandro rested a hand on his son's shoulder, surprised to see the anger on Diego's face. "Go on Diego," he urged, gently squeezing his son's shoulder, mindful of the bruises that lay beneath the blue nightgown.

Diego rubbed a hand through his dark hair, "Arturo won. He was leaving when the man grabbed his fallen sword and lunged. I…I tried to warn Arturo, but it was too late. The blade caught him in the back, pierced his heart. He was dead before he hit the ground." Diego turned away from his father. He squeezed his eyes shut trying to will away the image of his friend. His voice was hushed when he continued, "The other swordsman was killed shortly after."

At his father's questioning glance Diego shrugged, "It doesn't matter how. The man had an older brother, a classmate of mine. He blamed me for his brother's death. He had sworn he would get even, but then I left for California and did not think of it until I got the note. It may not have been him, but I am almost certain it was. It does not matter now. He has done what he wanted. I will not give his name."

Alejandro shook his head. He could not understand Diego's loyalty to a man who beat him. Why would he not wish him punished? A thought occurred to Alejandro, "Diego," he began, "why would he blame you for his brother's death?"

Diego did not answer, too many thoughts ricocheted his mind. His clenched fists shook under the covers. Because it was my sword that pierced his brother's heart. It was my hand that killed him. Do I not deserve what Ignacio did?

Alejandro saw the questions dance around Diego's mind. He knew his son was wrestling with his emotions. Although he did not know why the man blamed Diego for the death of his brother, he would not let Diego decide he deserved the beating. "Diego, you did what you thought was right, what was right. You always have. Don't blame yourself, and don't protect the man who did this to you. You owe him no loyalty." Alejandro sighed. "Diego, do you think you deserved this…" he waved his hand across Diego's body, "this beating?"

Diego slowly unclenched his fists, and rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. He was exhausted. All he wanted was his father to leave him alone to sort things out, but he knew his father would demand an answer. The problem was Diego just didn't have one right then. How could he answer his father when he himself did not know?

Diego said the only thing he could to satisfy his father, "No, I did not deserve this. I am tired, Father. Can we continue this in the morning?"

Alejandro nodded slightly. He knew his son was telling him what he wanted to hear, but he could tell the conversation had taken its toll. "Sí, mi hijo. Rest. I will be here if you need me."

Diego nodded and turned his head toward the small window in his room, a sliver of moon was silhouetted by the wispy clouds, and he couldn't help but think of Zorro and what Ignacio's arrival would mean for the both of them. Surely Ignacio would connect the masked man to the suddenly inept swordsman Diego had become. Maybe it would take a while, but Diego knew that if he tried Ignacio could destroy everything Diego was. Diego's disturbing thoughts tumbled around his mind until he could not keep them straight. Only then did his breathing even out as he fell into a fitful sleep.

Alejandro waited until Diego had fallen asleep before making himself comfortable. Images of the past day danced around his head. He could see his son being thrown to the ground, a moan escaping his lips. Alejandro's last thought was of his son's scars before he fell into a restless sleep.

**TBC**


	6. Chapter 6

Alejandro jumped when a hand shook his shoulder. He could barely make out the image of his friend. "Fernando, you do not need to take over. I am fine."

Fernando glared at his friend and took his arm pulling him out of the chair. "You look terrible, even in the poor light. You will not do Diego, or anyone else, any good if you get sick. Now please go to bed. But first drink the tea Bernardo prepared for you."

Alejandro found himself too tired to argue. He let his friend lead him to his room. "Now I don't expect to see you until late in the morning. Doctor Hernandez and the others will not be here until mid-afternoon," Don Fernando warned.

"Sí, I think you are right. Buenos noches." Alejandro agreed. He watched Don Fernando leave, before he slowly unbuttoned his shirt and pants. Alejandro slipped into his nightgown and crawled beneath the covers. He leaned across his bed and blew out the lantern that sat on a small cherry table near his bedside. His head barely hit the down pillow before he fell into a deep sleep. The day's events had taken their toll, and Alejandro's body was exhausted.

The morning came quicker than Alejandro would have liked. Thin strands of light penetrated his curtain and settled across his face. Raising a sleep laden arm, Alejandro tried to block the sun from his eyes, and for a moment he couldn't remember why he was in bed so late. Usually he was up before the first rays could reach his second-story window.

He swung his feet off the bed and onto the cold floor. The early morning chill penetrated his senses, the sensation triggered the memories of last night and Alejandro sighed. He couldn't believe he had slept so long while his son lay in the next room injured. Dressing quickly he ran a comb through his hair before stepping into the hall.

The smell of warm tortillas and eggs wafted up the stairs. Alejandro's stomach rumbled and he smiled slightly, looking around to see if anyone was near enough to hear. Shaking his head, his smile faded as he walked to Diego's room. He stopped outside the door when he heard Diego's voice. He seemed to be having a conversation with himself. Alejandro stepped closer, careful not to make any noise. He knew he shouldn't listen, but he found himself unable to stop. Alejandro had a strange sensation that if he heard what Diego was saying some more of last nights mystery would be resolved.

Diego's muffled voice floated to the door. "Yes, he is here for me. No, I don't know what he is planning next, but I am sure I will not like it. No, I don't think Zorro will interfere. It is not necessary, and can only lead to trouble…If it is necessary, but only if there is no other choice. It is dangerous. I will try. Now go see if Father is awake."

Alejandro took several steps toward his room and paused. When he heard Diego's door open he continued walking as though nothing was amiss. He was surprised to see Bernardo walk out of Diego's room. Bernardo smiled and waved him toward the room. Alejandro nodded and thanked his son's faithful mozo.

As Alejandro made his way to Diego's room, a nagging feeling settled in his stomach. He was curious as to why Diego would talk to Bernardo in private, but only use hand signals in public. An answer seemed to come to him, but before he could make it out it was gone.

Alejandro also worried about what he had heard Diego say. Why would Zorro not interfere and what is going to be dangerous? This was just one more secret Diego hid from him, and he wondered what else there was to know.

Alejandro smiled as he opened the door and saw Diego. Although obviously stiff, Diego was propped up against several pillows, an empty bowl on the night stand. "I am glad to see you are feeling better," Alejandro smiled.

Diego smiled at his father's concern. "A little." Diego admitted. "You look better. Did you rest?" Diego asked, knowing his father worried excessively about him and doubtlessly paid little heed to his own well-being.

Alejandro sighed, amazed at his son's selflessness, "Diego, you are injured and yet you are more concerned with my sleep. You are something, mi hijo."

Diego's hazel eyes lowered at the complement. He had kept too many secrets and hurt his father too many times to deserve such praise. He turned his head away before speaking. His voice was barely above a whisper when he spoke, "You are my Father. I…I have always tried to watch out for you. I do only what I can, what is right. No man would do any less."

"No, Diego. You may not be a fighter, but you have always put others before you. That is rare among men. Do not forget that."

Diego looked at his father and saw pride in those dark eyes. How long had he waited to see that look? Diego knew he had not seen that look since his return from Spain. "Father I…" Diego started, unsure if he should continue. He knew his father should know he was Zorro, but Diego did not want to risk Alejandro's life because of a selfish act. "Father," he continued, "gracias. That means a great deal to me." Diego shifted, trying to hide his nervousness, and grimaced at the pain it caused.

From his slow movements and pained expression, Alejandro could tell Diego was still sore, "Are you in much pain? Doctor Hernandez left some laudanum in case you needed it."

"No, Father. I am fine. Just a bit tired. Bernardo said Doctor Hernandez would be here to check on me later, and I think I would like to rest before then."

"All right, mi hijo. If you need anything I will be in to check on you later," Alejandro said as he turned to leave.

"Gracias Father." Diego said, his mind already half asleep. The next few days would be tiresome, and Diego only hoped he would be healed before Zorro was needed. Fortunately Monastario was in Monterey for the next month, and Zorro wouldn't likely be needed until his return. Diego was not going to pass up such an excellent opportunity to rest and heal.

Bored with his own thoughts, Diego closed his eyes and tried to rest. Doctor Hernandez's visit would likely be tiring, and he wanted to save as much strength as possible before the visit. Diego soon drifted into a disturbed sleep, his mind still to occupied with his worries to rest completely.

A firm hand lightly shook Diego's shoulder. Diego started at the touch. His lids flew open and hazel eyes searched the room for the source of the touch. His body tensed at the possible confrontation. "What?" He asked his mind still numb from being awakened to soon.

Noticing Diego's reaction, Alejandro spoke softly to his son. "It's all right Diego," his soothing voice said. "It is just Doctor Hernandez. Let him look at you."

Diego turned toward the voice and his eyes focused on the image of his father. Diego noted the slumped posture, and the tired eyes, dark underneath from lack of sleep and worry. "Lo siento," he said as let the doctor remove the blanket and pull back his night shirt.

Doctor Hernandez prodded the area and replaced the bandage before straightening. "It is healing nicely. You heal very quickly Diego," Doctor Hernandez commented as he pulled the blanket back into place. Diego shrugged at the comment but said nothing.

Doctor Hernandez turned to Alejandro, "Sergeant Garcia can come up now if he is ready. Just let him know he is not to ask too many questions today. Diego, while he is healing, is still weak and needs rest."

Diego frowned, his handsome features marred by the look of displeasure. He knew he had to tell the sergeant something, but he did not want anyone to know exactly what was going on. He had already told his father too much, but Diego could not stand to add anymore reason for his father to worry. I don't have to give him a physical description. He can't find what he can't see, Diego thought. Still, he didn't like the idea.

"All right," Alejandro said. He turned to leave but stopped halfway through the door. He had noticed the scowl on Diego's face, "Don't worry Diego, I will stay with you and if you get tired I will chase the good sergeant out."

Diego gave Alejandro a half-smile. "Gracias Father," was all the young don said, his mind focused on the interview soon to come. He had to figure out what to tell the sergeant. He couldn't change from the story he told Alejandro, but he could leave things out and explain to his father he still feels it is between himself and Fuentes. Diego was still lost in thought when his door flew open.

"Diego," Sergeant Garcia began-his eyes wide as he saw the dark bruise on Diego's jaw and the swollen cut lip. "Madre de Dios! They said you were hurt, but who would do this to you? You are the best man I know. You have never wronged anyone. You do not even fight! You help everyone you can, especially me," Garcia commented, his face red from the thought of anyone hurting Diego.

Diego blushed at the comment but remained silent. He looked at his father's face and then to Don Fernando and Doctor Hernandez. He knew they felt the same way. His blushed deepened and he turned away so they wouldn't see his burning cheeks. He did not deserve their praise. If they knew what secrets he hid, they would feel differently. He had lied to them all, and when the time came to reveal himself, he wasn't sure what they would do.

Alejandro noticed his son's blush and spoke up, "Sergeant, do you think you could begin the questioning? Diego needs his rest."

Garcia nodded, "Lo siento. I will hurry," Garcia said before turning to Diego. "Do you know who did this?" He asked, his voice carrying the hope that Diego did indeed know.

Diego shook his head, "No, I have never seen them before."

"What did they look like?"

Diego frowned, his mind working on an image that would be broad enough to serve his purpose, but still detailed enough to satisfy the sergeant and the others in the room. "I never saw any of them but one…" A sudden thought suddenly occurred to Diego, "and only him for a few seconds. They blindfolded me," Diego added his mind working rapidly. "I suppose he was the leader," he continued. "He wore the clothes of a peon, but they were well made. His face is one big blur, but he may have had a scar on his right cheek. I can not be certain though. " Diego told the men in the room.

This time it was Doctor Hernandez who spoke, "Diego, what were you doing out there in the storm?"

Diego knew they would eventually come around to this question, but he had hoped they would ask a few more before. He was not ready to answer just yet. Diego yawned, and shifted uncomfortably in bed. The interview, although short, was taxing on Diego's healing body. He knew he had to do something before he became too tired and let something slip.

Doctor Hernandez saw Diego squirm and could hear the yawn he tried to muffle. "Diego, are you all right? Are you in pain?" Hernandez asked, concerned for his young patient.

Diego's only reply was another yawn. He was tired, and his body still ached. Perhaps the doctor could do what he couldn't, Diego thought. Diego knew from his childhood that the best way to make someone think you are ill is to simply deny it. "No, I am fine. We…" Diego yawned in mid-sentence, his eyes closing with the action. He found it hard to open them again; he felt drained. He tried to pry his eye lids open and couldn't get them to cooperate. _I'll just rest them a moment. They won't mind_, Diego thought.

"Diego?" Doctor Hernandez questioned when Diego did not finish what he was saying. When the young don's eyes remained closed, Doctor Hernandez knelt beside the bed. He gently shook the young man, and to his surprise, Diego was asleep.

**TBC**


	7. Chapter 7

He turned to the men in the room with a smile on his face. "He is asleep. I guess this interview took more out of him than he thought. The rest of his story can wait." Doctor Hernandez turned to Sergeant Garcia, "You have your descriptions. The rest of the interview will have to wait another few days."

Sergeant Garcia shook his head fervently, "Sí, Diego needs his rest. I just wish he could have told us what the men looked like. Me and my men have a hard enough time finding people we know," The sergeant said as he shrugged his broad shoulders. "I will find the men for Diego," Sergeant Garcia stated as he left the room. The other men soon followed, leaving Diego alone to rest.

When Diego again opened his eyes he could tell night had fallen. His room was shrouded in darkness, except for one small lamp that barely burned. He looked around his room and saw a sleeping figure in the chair next to his bed. He squinted to see who it was. The man shifted and Diego could tell it was Don Fernando.

Diego swallowed and his mouth felt dry. He saw the pitcher of water on the nightstand, an empty glass beside it. Diego carefully shifted his weight. His muscles protested and Diego had to clench his jaw to stop the groan in his throat. He slid his feet off the bed and sat up. The movement jarred every bruise and scrape and this time Diego could not stop the small gasp that left his lips.

Diego held his breath as Don Fernando stirred. He did not want the Don to wake up before he had his drink. The man, almost as protective as his father, would likely fuss over him. While Diego knew the men were merely trying to help, he was not used to relying on anyone, and he wasn't about to now. Don Fernando shifted his weight, his head rolling towards Diego. Diego could tell he was still asleep.

After a few moments, Diego continued his slow progress. He planted both legs firmly on the ground and gripped his head board to steady himself. The nightstand was near the bed, but Diego would have to stand to reach the pitcher and glass.

He took a deep breath before pushing himself off the bed. He swayed slightly, gripping the bed tighter. When he felt steady, Diego took a step toward the pitcher. He moved his hand to the top of the nightstand and took another step. The pitcher was just at his fingertips. He stretched his upper body, long fingers reached for the handle. His fingertips touched the thin handle and he pulled it toward himself. Diego leaned his tall frame against the cool wood. The water felt good on his dry throat and he nearly sighed in relief. Diego filled the cup, and set it closer to the bed.

The journey back took longer. Diego felt somewhat dizzy, and his feet didn't want to cooperate. He fell across the bed and laid there for a moment catching his breath. A small chuckle invaded Diego's senses, and he rolled over.

"All you had to do was ask," Don Fernando said, his voice held a note of humor. "But it is good to see you out of bed," he continued. "Now let me help you," he told Diego as he stood and reached for one of Diego's arms. Fernando helped Diego back into bed and pulled the dark covers over his tall frame.

"I am here for you. Don't be afraid to ask for help. I will not think any less of you," Fernando chided the embarrassed Diego.

"Lo siento. I was merely tired of being waited on. I needed to do this." Diego explained.

"I understand, but next time at least make sure I am awake." Fernando smiled and sat back in his chair. "If you need something just wake me."

Diego nodded, "Sí, I will wake you." Diego shifted in the hopes of finding a comfortable position. His chest hurt from the shallow wound, the bandages rubbed on the area and Diego had an urge to scratch the healing skin. Diego ignored the sensation and slipped into a fitful rest. Don Fernando also closed his eyes, and soon he too was asleep.

Diego awoke to an empty room. The sun had not yet fully risen above the orchard and his room was still dark. Diego careful stretched his battered body, wincing at the stiffness and twinges as he worked through each exercise. Diego decided he would ask Bernardo for a hot bath with some of the herbs he had collected a few years ago from the missionary Indians mixed in. What the herbs were, Diego did not know, but they worked wonders on stiff and sore muscles. He had used the herbs before when Zorro's escapades had left his body tired and stressed.

Diego grimaced as he swung his feet over the edge of the bed. He slipped into his robe. Bernardo, he assumed, had been thoughtful and had left it on the chair beside his bed. He moved slowly to the dresser and used it as a support while he wiggled his feet into his slippers. He grabbed a comb and ran it through his hair before moving slowly across the room. Diego felt better this morning, his stretches had loosened his muscles and he felt like he had more energy.

Diego opened his door and peered out. He looked down the hall and was glad to see it empty. Diego smiled. He felt like a child sneaking about the house, doing something he shouldn't be. Of course, Diego admitted, he was about to do something he probably shouldn't. He took one last look down the corridor before he stepped out into the hall. He shut his door and worked his way to the stair case. He frowned as he looked down the flight of steps. They seemed longer than normal.

Diego carefully made his way down the steps. He smiled at his triumph when his feet touched the hardwood of the sala. As silently as he could he made his way into the library. It was empty and Diego sighed in relief. He could hear voices in the kitchen and knew his father and Fernando were probably eating. He expected they would wait a few hours before bringing him his broth. Maybe if he was lucky they wouldn't notice his escape for a couple of hours. His room had seemed crowded over the last couple of days and the open space of the library was a relief to Diego. Besides, a good book always helped him to relax and Doctor Hernandez only ordered him to rest. He didn't say where he was supposed to rest at.

Diego lost himself in one of his favorite books of poetry. He didn't know how long he had sat in the tall backed chair reading when he heard voices nearing the library. _Oh well_, he thought as the library door opened. Alejandro and Fernando both stopped in the doorway. Diego acted the innocent as the two men crossed the floor and stood in front of him. Diego looked up, "Father, Don Fernando." Diego greeted the two men as though it was natural they would find him in the library.

Don Alejandro looked at his son and shook his head, "Diego, what are you doing down here?"

"Reading, Father." Diego said, his voice light and amused.

Alejandro sighed exasperated at his son's behavior. "Yes, I can see that. But why are you in the library? You could have sent Bernardo to get you a book. Or Fernando or myself. You should not have come down stairs. You are not well, Diego."  
Diego smiled at his father. His swollen lip protested but he kept the smile in place. "I am fine Father. Just sore. The walk did me some good. And besides, I came straight here to rest."

"Since you are down here, Maria can bring you your broth. Then, after you have eaten, you are going back to your room to get some more rest. Doctor Hernandez will be here in a couple of hours."  
Diego held up his arms, "I surrender. I will finish my broth and go back up stairs. And I will stay there until Doctor Hernandez leaves."

Alejandro nodded, "I will have Maria bring you your breakfast." Alejandro turned and left the library.

Don Fernando wandered over to one tall bookshelf and thumbed through the volumes. He pulled out a red, leather bound volume and sat on the couch. "Do you mind if I keep you company?"  
"No, not at all," Diego answered. He turned back to his poetry until Alejandro came back into the room. He carried a tray of broth and a cup of tea. He set it on the table beside Diego.

"Here you go Diego. It is fresh and hot."

"Thank you Father." Diego ate in silence, quickly finishing both the broth and tea. He did not want to admit it, but he was tired and bed sounded appealing. He would have to take his bath later--perhaps after Doctor Hernandez left.

Alejandro left Don Fernando in the library as he helped Diego back up stairs. Alejandro reminded Diego that Doctor Hernandez would be by to check on him in a couple of hours. He made sure Diego was safely in bed before he left.

Diego came awake slowly when a hand touched his shoulder. "Diego, I am sorry to wake you, but I need to change your bandage and check on your other injuries."  
Diego turned sleep filled eyes on the kind and concerned face of Doctor Hernandez. "That is quite all right Doctor. I did not intend to fall asleep."  
Hernandez chuckled, "You may not have been planning on it, but your body was. In a couple of days you should be able to move about freely without hurting as much. Just make sure you rest when you are tired."

The doctor changed the bandage on Diego's wound, glad to see it healing without any infection. He once again noted the scars that adorned Diego's body. They were not many, but some seemed like they had been serious. Doctor Hernandez nodded to himself as he came to a decision. He was certain he was right. Either way he was going to find out.

Hernandez looked at Diego, his face serious. "Diego, I want to ask you some questions. And I want the truth. I may know it all ready, but I want to hear it from you."  
Diego tensed. He had a sickening feeling he knew what Hernandez was going to ask him and he had no idea how he could convince the doctor he was wrong. The scars told a story of there own, and Diego could not dismiss them. Hernandez would not allow him to.

"Diego, you have wounds and scars I have never treated. You have been injured many times over the last several years despite the fact that you pretend you are just a scholar. You are in excellent shape." Any doubt Hernandez had fled as he continued. "Of course, you have to be to pull off the stunts you do."

Hernandez looked directly at Diego, "Zorro could not be weak, could he?" It was not a question, so much as an accusation. "I have thought long and hard about what I have seen, Diego. I compiled all the injuries I know Zorro has taken and matched them with yours. They fit Diego. And then, I tried to remember when you were around at the same time as Zorro. There may have been one or two times, but I just couldn't remember. And then I remembered when Zorro first appeared. It was not long after you arrived. Days only. What were the odds? That is when I made up my mind. You are Zorro?"

Diego nodded. "You are the second person to know that. You can not tell anyone. Your knowing will put you in danger. If Monastario even suspects you know Zorro's identity he will do everything he can to get it out of you."  
Doctor Hernandez smiled slightly, "You always think of others first. No, I will not tell anyone. You should tell your father. He deserves to know what his son does. He would be so proud of you Diego, as I am. Tell Bernardo I am proud of him as well. He seems to treat your wounds quite well." With that, Doctor Hernandez stood and left a dazed Diego behind.

Diego sat there stunned. He was certain the doctor would not tell anyone, but it did not ease the burden that someone knew and that they were suddenly in danger. Yet, Diego was somewhat glad the Doctor knew. His burden was hard to carry alone, even though he had Bernardo. Besides, it would make it possible for the doctor to treat him in the future--if there was a future for Zorro. Ignacio could make the doctor's discovery a mute point if he figured out who the man behind the mask was. And Diego had a terrible feeling Ignacio would figure out the pueblos, and perhaps California's, best kept secret.

**TBC**


	8. Chapter 8

The week passed slowly and Diego soon found himself bored. With Sergeant Garcia as acting Commandante, there had been no real need for Zorro. Except for one late night ride on Tornado to look for Diego's assailants, Zorro had remained out of sight. Zorro's outing had tired Diego immensely, and for the first time, Diego realized how injured he really was. His other injuries had not left him feeling so tired and weak, and Zorro had never suffered because of his injuries. Diego was suddenly very glad that Monastario was in Monterey.

Not only had Zorro's activities been limited, but so had Diego's. His father, as well as Bernardo and Don Fernando, kept Diego within the confines of the hacienda even though Diego was almost fully recovered. The cut on his chest was slowly disappearing, and soon only a thin scar would remain. The bruise on his jaw was faint, and his cut lip was mostly healed, the swelling was almost gone, but the cut was still clearly visible. Walking quietly, Diego maneuvered through the sala. He slipped on his hat as he opened the front door. The cool morning air felt good against his skin. He cherished the feel of the sun of his face for a moment, before turning toward the stables.

He had left a note for his father telling him he was going into town. He knew his father would be angry but Diego was tired of being inside. The ride into town would do him some good.

Diego had barely reached the gate when a firm voice stopped him, "Diego, what do you think you are doing?" Alejandro asked.

Diego turned to look at his father framed in the doorway, his hands on his hips. "I am going to the pueblo Father. I need a change of scenery, and the fresh air will do me some good."

Alejandro's face was firm. "Diego, you are not fully hea…" Alejandro began.

"I know Father, but some bruises have never stopped you. I will be fine. I am hardly even sore anymore." Diego said. A sudden smile spread across his face, "If you think I am not well enough to go on my own, perhaps you and Don Fernando would care to accompany me. Neither of you has set foot outside the hacienda since I was injured. Bernardo should come also. I know he would enjoy the trip as much as the rest of us would."

Alejandro's adamant expression remained for a moment, but he could not resist Diego's light-hearted smile and soon found himself nodding, "Just wait for us Diego. We will only be a moment." Alejandro said as he went inside. He stopped in the door and added as an afterthought, "It would be nice to eat in the tavern."

Diego's smile broadened. It was good to see his father smile again. The last week had been hard and Diego could tell his father had not been sleeping well. With a smile still on his lips, he continued toward the stable and instructed Juan to saddle four horses.

Juan smiled, "It is good to see you better. You had us all worried for a while," the loyal vaquero confessed.

"It is good to be better," Diego replied as he clasped the man on the shoulder.

A few minutes later, Diego found himself riding at a slow pace toward the pueblo. He wanted to urge his horse into a run, feel the wind on his face, the rush it left in his ears. He had not felt such exhilaration in weeks and Diego missed it immensely. He had gone down to the cave on several occasions to see Tornado, but had ridden him only once at a slow gait while looking for his or rather Diego's assailants. Tornado was as anxious to run as Diego. _Tonight mi amigo, we run._

Diego was brought out of his thoughts by a laugh. "That was the last time he tried that." Diego turned toward his father and saw a glint in his eye he hadn't seen for a while. Alejandro was smiling and his body shook with laughter.

"Father, I seem to have missed what you were saying. I am afraid to ask, yet I must. Were you telling Don Fernando a story about when I was young?"

Alejandro laughed even harder, gripping his side as he rode. "Not just any story. The story," He wheezed between chuckles.

Diego sighed. Would he ever be rid of that moment? He was only five. How much should a man suffer for his reckless childhood? "Father," Diego said exasperated.

"Now Diego, you know that it is a wonderful story to tell. The look on your face…I shall never forget it. You must have been blue for a week. I never knew berries could stain you for that long." Alejandro said between soft chuckles. Alejandro looked away for a moment lost in thought. He wished life was like it used to be. Things were less complicated when Diego was young.

"Father that was not necessarily my fault. You said you wanted the grapes smashed, so I smashed them. You never specified how you wanted them smashed for the wine." Diego said indignantly.

"Verdad. You were quite intelligent even at five. Still, who would have thought you would decide that it would go quicker if you just rolled over the grapes, instead of using your feet. Maria never did get the stains out of your clothes, and your arms and face…,"Alejandro could not finish as both he and Fernando fell into another fit of laughter.

Diego looked to Bernardo for help, but even his mozo was chuckling. Diego lightly slapped his friend before kicking his horse into a trot. The other three looked at Diego's retreating back and laughed even harder. After a moment all three men were able to stop laughing. Alejandro spoke to his friend and waved to Bernardo, "Come let us catch up with Diego."

The pueblo was bursting with activity as the four men rode through the gate. Vendors lined the plaza and dons, vaqueros, and peons meandered around the tiny shops. The men carefully worked their way through the crowd and stopped in front of the inn.

Many of the peons stopped and stared at Diego for a moment. His bruised face, though almost healed, was still visible, as was his cut lip. Some came to him, wishing him well and hoping the men would be caught. Diego took the well-wishers in stride and nodded politely to each, thanking them for their concern.

Even at the early hour the tavern was full. The men found a corner table and seated themselves. A young woman came to their table, her long hair pinned back from her face. Diego smiled, "Buenos dias, Pilar."

The beautiful woman smiled back, "Buenos dias, Don Diego. I am glad you are feeling better." She turned to the other men, "Buenos dias, Don Alejandro, Don Fernando, and you Bernardo," She said acknowledging each man with a slight nod of her head. "What would you like to eat this morning?"

Alejandro looked around the table and ordered for all the men, "Eggs and a plate of fruit, por favor. And orange juice," Alejandro told her.

The smell of steaming eggs wafted through the tavern. The serving girl placed a plate of freshly scrambled eggs in front of each man, and a platter of mixed fruit in the middle of the table. "Gracias," Alejandro replied. His stomach grumbled at the smell and he looked around to see if anyone had heard. Alejandro smiled to himself when he noticed that no one had. He picked up his fork and took a bite before his stomach could complain again.

Throughout their meal many of the Dons in the tavern came to the table voicing how glad they were to see Diego about. Don Carlos, an old friend of the family, looked Diego up and down, "You look much better Diego. Your bruises are barely visible. I am glad you are doing better. I just wish I had good news about the men who did this, but I am afraid they are long gone. We have not been able to find any sign of them."

"That is all right Don Carlos. You and the other Dons did enough. I did not expect you to find them. They did not seem like men who would stay near the pueblo and chance getting caught," Diego told the older man.

Don Carlos merely nodded his head before bidding the men goodbye. He headed to his own table where two other Dons waited, each sipping a glass of juice. The other two men were also close friends of the de la Vegas. Don Armando and Don Rafael both owned land that was adjoined to the Vega holdings, and Don Alejandro often invited the men to dine at his home when they discussed various business propositions.

After the food was finished Don Fernando leaned back in his chair, "It is good to finally relax."

"Sí," Alejandro replied. "It has been a long week for us all," Alejandro looked at his son and smiled, "Especially Diego. I can not recall a time since his return from Spain when he wanted out of the hacienda so much."

Diego's soft laughter filled the table, "Me neither, Father. Me neither."

Alejandro looked at his son and smiled. It was good to hear him laugh. Alejandro looked at the light streaming in through the tavern's small windows. They had been here a couple of hours and Alejandro felt it was time to go home.

"I am really enjoying myself, but I think its time to head back home," Alejandro told the others at the table. He saw the disappointed look on Diego's face and added, "Don Carlos has some horses he said I could look at. I thought we could stop and look on the way to the hacienda. I will go and ask him."

"Sí, that sounds fine." Diego smiled.

Alejandro turned to Fernando before standing, "And you, Fernando?"

Fernando looked at the men for a moment, his mouth drawn tight, "I don't think that would be a good idea," he said, watching the disappointment wash over Diego's face for a brief moment, only to be replaced with an unreadable expression. Don Fernando smiled, "Actually, I think it would be an excellent idea."

Alejandro smiled in return, "Then it is agreed. Shall we go?"

The men pushed their chairs back and stood. The three caballeros and Bernardo maneuvered through the crowd until they were standing next to Don Carlos and two other Dons.

"Buenos dias," Alejandro greeted the men before focusing on the only white-haired don at the table. "Don Carlos, how is your family?"

"Bien, gracias." Don Carlos replied.

"Do you think it is possible for us," Alejandro swept his hand in a semi-circle to include Don Fernando, Diego, and Bernardo, "to come look at the horses you were telling me about. I would love to get a look at them and if they are as good as you say, perhaps we could settle the deal over dinner tomorrow night," Alejandro asked his friend.

Don Carlos nodded, "Sí that sounds fine. I am almost finished with breakfast and then we can leave."

"That is fine. We will be outside when you are ready." Alejandro turned to the other men at the table, Don Armando and Don Rafael, "Buenos dias, señores."

The tavern door squeaked open, light streaming through the opening, and a tall, well-kept man stepped into the dim room. His eyes squinted against the gloom as he searched the tavern for an empty table. His clothes identified him as a caballero; he wore a dark blue suit, gold stitching decorating the sides of his pants and jacket. A matching hat hung loosely at the back of his head and rested against broad shoulders.

The men around the table turned to look at the man entering the tavern. Alejandro made a move toward the door but stopped when he heard an almost inaudible growl from his son. Alejandro threw Diego a quick glance, his mind faltering at the anger that seethed behind his son's hazel eyes. Taken aback by the unexpected emotion his son wore, he did not notice the stranger walk toward where they stood.

Alejandro, and every other caballero at the table, felt Diego stiffen as the man drew closer. The stranger wore a tight smile on his face. Something about him unnerved Alejandro and he had to force his legs not to take a step back as the man approached. Alejandro cast a glance at his son. The anger he saw in his son's eyes earlier was now clearly displayed on Diego's tan face. Diego's handsome features looked dark as he watched the man approach. Alejandro had a sudden feeling that he had met this man before, but could not place where. He looked at Diego again, shocked at the anger his son radiated, especially toward what Alejandro perceived as a stranger.

**TBC**


	9. Chapter 9

The stranger smiled as he reached the table, his lips drawn up slightly, barely revealing a row of white teeth. "Buenos dias, señores," he said as he bowed his head slightly in acknowledgement. His mouth suddenly jerked, the corners twitching toward his dark brown eyes. "And to you Diego. It has been a long time since we last met."

"Sí." Diego agreed his voice tight. The caballeros around the table shot confused looks at Diego. The tavern grew silent, its occupants now focused on the display before them. No one had ever heard the young don address anyone with such obvious dislike in his voice. Alejandro reached a hand out to Diego, laying it on his son's arm to try to calm him. Like the others, Alejandro was confused by his son's actions.

Only Bernardo understood Diego's reaction. He had been in Spain when Diego had met this 'stranger'. Bernardo could never forget that face. Ignacio Fuentes was one of the few men Bernardo hated.

Ignacio's smile grew wicked. "Tell me Diego…,"he said raising his voice so that the entire tavern could hear what he was about to say, "do you still play with the sword?"

The question caught Diego off guard. He knew Ignacio might bring up this little secret, but he was not expecting it so soon. Diego did not know what to say. He knew he could not deny it. He was certain Ignacio had brought proof he could fight. The man was cold and calculating. Ignacio planned for everything, thought through all the possibilities before making a move. He was deadly at chess, and he treated life like a chess game. Diego had a terrible feeling Ignacio knew who he was beyond the passive façade of Diego de la Vega. Ignacio had probably asked questions, and knew everything he could about the bandit Zorro and Don Diego. At a loss, Diego remained still, his fists clenched against his thighs, as he glared at the man before him, hoping to come up with an answer.

The entire tavern had fallen deathly quiet at the simple question. Alejandro's voice cut through the silence, "Diego has never 'played' with the sword, Señor. And may I ask as to how you know my son? You are a stranger to Los Angeles, are you not?"

"Sí, I am a stranger here. My name is Ignacio Fuentes. I arrived yesterday by boat from Spain. The same place I met your son. We attended University together." Ignacio stopped for a moment, relishing the dark look on Diego's face. He had only seen that look once before, just before the tip of Diego's sword pierced his brother's chest. This time however, it would be Diego that suffered. Ignacio ran a finger over a thin scar on his left cheek, his eyes riveted on Diego's face, "And trust me Señor, Diego knows how to play with a sword." A wicked grin split Ignacio's face, "Ask him who gave me the scar."

All eyes turned to Diego. Diego lowered his head slightly and kept his eyes on the man before him. He did not want to see the face of his father or his friends when they discovered he had lied to them since his return from Spain. Diego knew he would lose the trust of some today, he just prayed his father and Don Fernando would not be among them.

"Diego?" Don Carlos asked.

After what seemed an eternity to the patrons of the tavern, Diego took a deep breath and let it out slowly. In a voice barely above a whisper, Diego said the words he feared would condemn him, "Sí, I gave him the scar."

Several gasps echoed through the room. Diego felt the hand on his arm tighten. "You have known how to fight since your return? Why did you hide it Diego?" Alejandro asked—bewilderment evident in his voice.

Before Diego could tell his father he would rather discuss this in private, Ignacio's voice echoed through the unnaturally quiet tavern. "Guilt."

"What?" Alejandro asked. He looked to his son for clarification but Diego said nothing, his knuckles white from his clenched fists. Diego kept his face calm and continued to glare at Ignacio. Alejandro once again prompted his son to explain what the stranger meant.

Diego's deep, icy voice startled everyone in the tavern. They started at the obvious hate Diego radiated toward the man, "I have no guilt over what I did. I would do it again if I had to."

"I didn't realize death meant so little to you," Ignacio countered, relishing in the obvious grief he was causing Diego. From the wide-eyed looks of the men in the tavern, the image Diego had portrayed for the last five years had just shattered.

"What does he mean, my son?"

"Nothing, Father." Diego replied. This was not supposed to have happened. _Not like this, not like this,_ Diego thought, furious with himself for letting it happen at all. Diego knew only one way to stop this conversation. He turned on his heels and headed toward the exit, ignoring the voices of protest that reached his ears. Diego vaguely registered Bernardo pushing away from the table to follow him.

A hand grabbed Diego and tried to spin him around. Diego jerked free and continued walking, unfazed by the voice of his father telling him to stop. The men parted before Diego, leaving a clear path to the partially open door.

"You will die Diego." Ignacio's voice drifted through the tavern, but Diego did not stop.

Diego's voice, barely above a whisper, trailed behind him as he paused at the door and turned, "Everyone dies."

Alejandro shivered at his son's words as he watched the tall, handsome figure step into the early afternoon sun and disappear. Alejandro stared at the door for a few seconds before shaking his head in an attempt to clear it of the garbled details it had just been overwhelmed with. This was not his son. Diego seemed a different person. Alejandro had never seen his son so angry. For a few moments, Alejandro was certain his son would hit the stranger. He was surprised to see so much hate and anger in his son's normally cheerful hazel eyes. Diego had never shown so much passion. Alejandro ran a hand through his grey hair and turned to the stranger next to him.

The man seemed familiar to Alejandro. He studied the man for a brief second, noting the scar he had indicated earlier. It was thin and white, obviously several years old. Probably made by a rapier, Alejandro thought. The man had dark hair that fell just above his shoulders, his bangs falling loosely over his forehead. His eyes were light brown, but seemed darker in the dim light of the tavern. Alejandro shuddered at the sight of the man's eyes. Their intensity and hate almost scared him and he once again had the urge to step away from the man, but like before Alejandro remained where he was. Alejandro continued his appraisal. The man was handsome, despite the thin scar on his cheek.

This man had the same build as Diego. He was tall and broad shouldered. His lean, almost wiry, frame made him look like he would be an awkward fighter, but an image of Diego's grace as he moved through a crowded inn weeks before dispelled the brief notion. No, this man was quick and deadly. His tall frame would lend itself to a fight, allowing his blade to make contact before his opponent's.

Alejandro shivered at the thought that his son would most likely fight this man. The stranger believed Diego could fight, and Diego did not deny it. It fact, he confirmed it. Alejandro had a strange sense that he did not know his son. _What else do I not know_, Alejandro thought, laughing silently as he realized he had asked this question several times in the last few weeks and every time he had asked it he was no closer in discovering the answer than when he first voiced it.

Alejandro's rampant thoughts were stopped with the quiet voice of Don Fernando as he addressed Ignacio Fuentes, "What did you mean by guilt?"

Ignacio glanced around the tavern. All eyes were on him, their owners anxious to hear the story. Should he tell them, or let Diego, he wondered. Ignacio's quick mind ran through the scenarios. If Diego explained, Ignacio thought, than he could make himself seem like a hero, a righteous man whom the town would likely defend to the death. No, he had to tell the story, plant the seeds of doubt and then watch them grow.

Ignacio began his story. He quickly sketched the scene. Four students, only a year or two apart, all eager to learn and become men of action. They were the best students at University. Skilled in both sword and word. They were men of honor, bound by the unwritten code that guided them into manhood.

Ignacio's brother, Benicio, was to duel Diego's friend Arturo de Amanza for the honor of a young lady. "Benicio won, but Arturo could not stand it. While my brother's back was turned, Arturo lunged. I warned my brother and was forced to kill Arturo. Diego was furious. He drew his sword and plunged it through my brother's chest. He died the next day. The doctor's could not stop the bleeding." Ignacio paused to see the reaction of the men. Their faces showed a mix of disbelief and hate. Alejandro looked shocked, his face almost white. Ignacio smiled. Alejandro probably believed his son was a monster.

Alejandro felt as though someone had kicked him. This was the man Diego had told him about earlier. The man his son believed sent the men after him. Alejandro had never felt such hate toward any man. Not only did Fuentes have his son beaten, he was making his son appear a dishonorable man. Alejandro could not find the words to lash out with, so he kept silent, letting the anger brew.

Ignacio continued, "I challenged Diego. I knew he was the better swordsman. He was the gem of the University, the man who could do it all." Ignacio seethed with anger as he talked. His jealousy of Diego was evident in his words. He had come from a noble Spanish family. He was supposed to be the man the instructors compared the rest of the University with, the man they would tell the new students about, but Diego had taken that honor as well. Ignacio finished his story, "Diego won. He gave me the scars as a reminder of what he could do."

Don Carlos spoke up, his irritation no longer allowing him to be silent, "This is not Diego. He would never kill a man in cold blood. And if he did, why wasn't he sent to prison? Surely you would have testified against him."

"Sí, but Diego has connections in Spain, powerful friends whom I could not compete against. The incident was brushed aside. The University has influence in Madrid; its reputation was at stake. Its representative spoke in Diego's behalf," Ignacio finished. He knew many did not believe him, but some did, of that he was sure. All it took was a few who doubted, and in the end the rest would follow.

"I do not believe you," Alejandro spoke. His voice shaking slightly as he continued, "Diego would never do that. He is an honorable man. It is you who is dishonest." Alejandro stopped for a moment, wondering what he should say to defend his absent son. Alejandro was certain he knew the truth. This was the same story Diego had told with a few alterations. He felt he had no right to tell the others what Diego had told him in confidence. It must be Diego who told his side of the story.

Alejandro took a deep breath to steady his ragged nerves, "My son would never purposely kill…nor scar an innocent man. That would go against everything he believes in. As I said before, Diego is an honorable man. He would never put his wishes before justice." Alejandro looked at everyone in the tavern before continuing, "And he would never use his connections to escape justice. A man does not change so much in six years."

"That is…not true," Ignacio stumbled for a response, knowing he had lost the few men who had started to doubt Diego. "Diego has already proved he is not what he seems. You will soon learn that Diego will go to great lengths to avenge his friends…and family." Ignacio growled and turned to leave, "I will be back."

"I know, I know," Alejandro whispered after the man left.

The tavern remained silent for several minutes while its occupants tried to digest everything they had just heard. Things were revealed to quickly, and no one knew how to handle it. This was something foreign to them. Their image of Diego had just collapsed, leaving a stranger in its place.

A hushed voice broke the suffocating silence, "Alejandro…?"

Alejandro started at the sound of his name. He turned to see the worried the expressions of Don Carlos and Don Fernando. "Qué?"

Don Carlos looked at the men around the table, each nodding is head in approval, before finally speaking, "We believe in Diego. Diego may not be all we thought he was, but some things never change. Diego is an honest, admirable man, and no matter what anyone says we know this to be true."

Alejandro managed a small smile. These were true friends. They may have thought his son was cowardly, but they still admired him, and now when things looked grim, they would stand beside Diego. "Gracias, it is appreciated. I…I don't know what to think, let alone say. It seems there is more to my son then we all believed." Alejandro addressed Don Fernando, "Are you ready to leave? I need some fresh air."

Don Fernando merely nodded, unsure of what to say. He shook his head slightly as a thought wormed its way through his brain. The minute he thought it he knew he was being selfish, but he couldn't help it. He had come here to relax and forget his problems, and instead he had walked into a hornet's nest of activity. He would stay to help Diego, and in truth Diego's own problems had helped Fernando forget his.

Alejandro nodded toward each don, and turned to leave. Alejandro was wrapped up in his own thoughts and failed to notice the three dons that pushed their chairs away from the table and stood. They silently agreed that Alejandro and Diego needed help. They quietly followed Alejandro out of the inn, and mounted their own horses.

**TBC**

**A/N: Thanks for all the reviews. The more the merrier.**


	10. Chapter 10

Diego raced his palomino across the rocky ground. Bernardo had fallen back several minutes ago, but Diego, his mind occupied, failed to notice. The wind rushed through Diego's black hair, twirling it wildly around his forehead. Diego could not tell you where he was riding, he just rode. His mind was in shock. Everything he had built in the years after his return from Spain, may have just crumbled. A dark thought wound its way into Diego's mind, but he pushed it away as quickly as it came. No, leaving Ignacio alive was the right thing to do, but Diego knew if he would have finished what he started, his world would not be threatened now.

_What has he done_, Diego thought. _What have I done? If only I could have stopped Benicio and Arturo from dueling. It was pointless anyway. If only Benicio was honorable. If only…,_ Diego thought. There were too many 'if onlys'.

Diego spurred his horse faster, trying to outdistance the thoughts that plagued him. Diego raced over the hills of California. He could smell the ocean. The sound of the waves crashing against the rocks reached Diego's ears, the sound muffled by distance.

Diego turned his horse around, away from the ocean. He rode back the way he had come. His horse's long stride covered the ground quickly. It was getting dark and Diego knew his father did not need anything more to worry about. He had caused him enough grief this past month...no these past six years.

Diego stopped in a small patch of trees, their arms stretched toward the sun, their leaves green from the spring rains. He let his horse drink from the small brook and wiped the white lather off her neck with his handkerchief. He knew he had ridden her hard today. Her lungs swelled with each deep breath she took.

"I will walk you home," He told her as he continued to rub her down. After a few minutes, Diego mounted and headed toward the hacienda. Although Diego would never admit it, he was afraid to face his father and the pueblo. _What will they think of me? Will they still trust me?_ _Will they connect me to Zorro?_ Diego let his thoughts wander as he slowly made his way to the hacienda.

**ZZZ**

Alejandro and Fernando rode in silence. Their thoughts were jumbled, and they both needed time to sort out what had happened today. Alejandro could not shake the feeling that he had seen the stranger before, but from where he did not know? Alejandro swiped a shaky hand through his hair and sighed. Things were moving too quickly and to erratically for his preference. All these years he thought he had known his son, but after today he wasn't sure. It was painfully obvious that Diego was not what everyone believed him to be. There was more to his son then most had thought.

Alejandro knew that if he, and everyone else, would have looked harder they would have seen something more in Diego. Yes, Diego never fought, not with the blade, but he never backed down. Diego fought in a different way, a peaceful way. Alejandro assumed his son was cowardly, but he knew deep down that was not true, even before this new information was revealed. He was just disappointed that his son would not stand up like he did, like a de la Vega should.

Alejandro silently added up everything Diego had done for the pueblo and the mission. Diego may have never yelled and threatened Monastario about his persecution of the peons and his high taxes, but Diego did what was really needed. He gave the people hope, food, and the occasional peso. In Alejandro's mind, Diego had done more than any of them.

Alejandro heard a slight chuckle from his left. He looked at his old friend and noticed a slight smile on his face. Alejandro considered asking him what was amusing, but decided not to. He already had an idea of who the man was thinking about. Alejandro had a suspicion that Diego was on the minds and tongues of most of the people in the pueblo by now.

Don Carlos and his two companions, Don Rafael and Don Armando, rode slowly toward Don Alejandro's hacienda. Dark clouds followed closely behind, their mood reflecting that of the men. The three talked quietly as they rode, guiding their horses across the muddy road.

It was Don Carlos who spoke first, his voice contemplative. "There is more to Diego than we gave him credit for, isn't there?" The question hung in the air a moment, its weight felt by all three dons.

"Yes, I suppose there is. I never would have thought Diego could hate someone that much. At one point I was sure Diego was going to punch him. This man, Fuentes, must have done something terrible. There is more to his story. If it is even true." Don Rafael commented.

Don Armando nodded thoughtfully, "Sí, but why would Diego hide his ability to fight? There must be some reason." Armando looked at the other two men, but was met with shrugs.

"Maybe we should ask Diego. I am sure he has an explanation for all this." Don Carlos suggested. His thoughts once again drifting to the scene in the tavern. The three men continued there ride quietly, each pondering what they had witnessed less than half an hour ago.

Don Alejandro and Don Fernando sat in the sala, each sipping slowly on a glass of wine. Both men were waiting for Diego to return. Bernardo had returned home only minutes after them, but he did not know when Diego would be home. Alejandro and Fernando both hoped Diego would explain what had happened in the tavern that afternoon.

The sounds of hoof beats brought the two men out of their stupor. They both rose as a knock sounded on the heavy oak door. Alejandro opened the door to see three of his dear friends. He stood there for a moment, wondering why they were here. From the solemn looks on their faces, Alejandro briefly wondered if something had happened to Diego. Finding his voice Alejandro asked the question he was dreading, "Has something happened to Diego?"

The men looked at Alejandro and smiled. "We are sorry for worrying you. We have not seen Diego. We just came to lend our support. To both you and Diego." Looking around at the two men beside him, Don Carlos continued, "We were also hoping for an explanation."

"Sí, I understand. So are we. So are we." Alejandro motioned for the three guests to take a seat, "Can I get you something to drink. The wine is excellent this year."

Don Armando spoke for the other two Dons, as well as himself, "Gracias. I think we could all use a drink after this afternoon."

Alejandro forced a laugh, "I have to agree." He poured the three guests a glass of wine and filled his and Fernando's glass before sitting down on one of the leather backed chairs that lined the dining table.

The men sat in silence enjoying their wine. The day had been confusing and the five Dons took this time to gather their wits. Half an hour passed before the silence was broken by the sound of a horse. The sound was soft. Someone had walked the horse in. Alejandro stood and walked to the window. He could see the tall frame of his son guiding his beautiful palomino to the stalls. Alejandro watched for a moment, then turned and sat back down. He looked at the men around him and smiled. These four dons represented the power in Los Angeles, and with them backing Diego, Alejandro knew his son would be safe.

**TBC**


	11. Chapter 11

The door slowly creaked open and Diego stepped through. His hair, usually neatly in place, fell across his forehead, giving him a roguish appearance. Diego's broad shoulders slumped forward slightly and his head was bowed. He did not even look at the men as he began ascending the stairs. Diego knew his father would stop him, but he didn't care. He just wanted to make it to his room and sleep. He had never felt so tired in his life. His injuries, though mostly healed, still bothered him and he tired easily. His walk home from the spring took all his energy, and all Diego wanted was some sleep.

"Diego." His father's voice floated up the stairway and Diego stopped. However, he did not turn around but instead waited. One hand clenched the railing for support. Diego's body shook slightly from the tension. Not only was his body pushed to its limits by his ride and walk home, but his mind seemed just as tired, if not more so.

"Diego, please come down here." Alejandro's voice was soft, barely above a whisper, but it carried easily to Diego who stood halfway up the stairwell. Diego stood for a moment longer, and the Dons thought he would ignore Alejandro and continue, but Diego merely sighed and headed toward the confrontation he desperately wanted to avoid.

"Please sit Diego, you look about ready to collapse," this came from Don Carlos. Diego soon found himself being ushered to the small divan that sat against the outside wall, just in front of the large window.

No one said anything for a moment. They all returned to their seats and Alejandro refilled their wine glasses. Although he knew Diego rarely drank, Alejandro poured his son a glass. "Diego," Alejandro said, holding the glass of wine before Diego. "I think you need this as much as the rest of us."

Diego stared at the red liquid. His hands shook, and Diego knew the glass would as well. Did he want the men to see how weak he truly was? Something about that disturbed Diego. Since his return from Spain, he had painted himself as a poet, a man of little action. Did he need to be strong? No, not as Diego. But still, the thought of these men, his friends, seeing him in such a state settled heavy on Diego's heart. He heard Alejandro urge him once again to take the glass. Diego willed his hands to stop shaking, and reached for the wine. The liquid sloshed quietly in the glass, and Diego set it on his leg, hoping the extra support would keep the liquid from sloshing out of the glass.

If the Dons had seen Diego's shaking, they did not voice it. Instead they stared at their own wine glasses, waiting for Alejandro to ask the first question. They did not have to wait long. Alejandro's voice seemed to pierce the still air. "Why did you not tell us you knew how to fight? All these years, you pretended to be something you weren't. Why?"

Diego sighed at the hurt in his father's voice. He knew Alejandro felt betrayed by his son's lack of trust. But that wasn't why Diego kept it a secret. It was to protect his father, but Diego knew he could not voice that concern. An answer like that would create more questions then it helped answer. Instead Diego told them something that they would believe, something he would later realize was partly the truth. "I fought probably a dozen or more duels the second year I was in school. They all wanted to test me. See if I was worth the praise of my instructors…" Diego paused for a moment and sipped his wine.

"They soon found out I was. The more I fought, the more they came. My last year at the University, before you called me home Father, it seemed every time I turned around someone was challenging me. I started to refuse them at the end." Diego stopped long enough to see the reaction of the men before him. They stared at him with wide-eyes. To them, they were seeing a different man, someone foreign to them.

"Then came Benicio Fuentes and his brother. A friend of mine, Arturo, he was almost as good as me. Benicio had challenged Arturo to a duel over some lovely lady they had both been courting. Arturo won…" Diego's voice grew tight, the anger once again present on his handsome face. "Benicio could not let the duel end in his defeat. He struck Arturo in the back." Diego swallowed past the lump in his throat. He took another sip of the wine and relished the feel of it on his parched throat.

Don Carlos, like the rest in the room, knew the story was hard to tell, but he gently urged Diego to continue. "Please Diego, finish."

Diego nodded slightly and took a breath to steady his nerves. His hands were still shaking, and the glass shook along with them. The red tinted liquid moved slowly in the glass, and for a moment Diego stared at it. He ran a tired hand through his dark hair, and continued. "Arturo was killed. I…I challenged Benicio. I was angry, and I let that anger rule me. It cost Benicio his life. " Diego let the information sink in, and took another sip of his wine. Like his story, the wine was almost finished. "Ignacio blamed me for Benicio's death. He had every right to. He challenged me to a duel. I couldn't decline even though I wanted to. I knew we would fight one way or another. Ignacio fought well, but I beat him. I gave Ignacio the scar on his cheek. I…I felt he deserved some punishment for what he allowed Benicio to do. He was his second, and he never tried to stop his brother. He laughed…"Diego's voice grew raspy and his eyes seemed to burn with a hatred the Dons thought Diego incapable of.

"He laughed when the blade sunk into Arturo. He laughed. Him and his brother…and it was all I could do not to kill them both. Sometimes I wish I…" Diego stopped before he voiced his final thoughts. He knew if he had killed Ignacio, he would never be able to look his father or anyone else in the eye again. "Instead I humiliated Ignacio. For him, it was worse then death. He swore one day he would see me dead. But then I left, and I had prayed I would never see him again." Diego smiled ruefully at the men before him, "I guess my prayers weren't answered."

The men in the room sat for several minutes without saying a word. They stared at Diego, seeing him in a new light--a very different light. They assumed Diego had never even brandished a sword, let alone took a life with one. They watched as Diego finished his wine and set the cup on the table in front of the divan. Diego leaned against the cushions and closed his eyes. His body shook uncontrollably, both from anger and fatigue. The Dons saw the strain behind Diego's eyes before they had closed, but again no one voiced their concern. They put aside their worries, wanting to hear the rest of the sad tale.

"That is why you never told anyone?" The question came from Alejandro. The close proximity of his voice snapped Diego's eyes open. His hazel eyes were wide as he noticed Alejandro before him sitting on one of the dining chairs that had been pulled close to the divan.

"Sí. Fighting brought nothing but pain and fatigue. I didn't want that here." Diego once again realized that this was true. He didn't want to be a fighter. At least not as Diego. Fighting as Zorro was different. It was as though he was someone else when he donned the mask. It didn't matter how many duels he fought as Zorro, because it was Zorro fighting and not Diego.

"You were good?" Don Armando asked.

"Sí," Diego admitted, his eyes still closed, "Very good."

"Do you have any trophies? May we see them one day?" Don Rafael asked hopefully. Though he would not admit it to anyone, Rafael wanted some proof of Diego's skill. It wasn't that he didn't believe Diego, but the thought of the quiet young Don being a man of action, an expert with the blade, was hard to come to terms with.

Diego opened his eyes, "Father can send Bernardo. He knows where they are."

This seemed to shock the men, "Bernardo knew," Alejandro asked, somewhat hurt by the fact that Bernardo knew more about his son then he did.

"Sí. He was there also. Bernardo knows everything," Diego whispered. "Go get him please. Bring him here," he asked, not caring who fulfilled his request. He knew why Rafael wanted to see his trophies. He needed something tangible to grasp. This whole ordeal seemed surreal to the five men, and they needed something solid to hold on to and help put everything in perspective.

Diego closed his eyes again. His head was now pounding, and he rubbed his temples in a vain effort to releave the stress headache. He brushed his bangs off his forehead and replaced his hands on his lap. He didn't know how long he sat there, but he roused from his stupor when a hand touched his knee.

"Bernardo is here son," Alejandro said. He wished this could wait for another night, but he knew Diego wanted it finished. He wasn't sure if his son could handle another night like this one. He wasn't used to opening up to others. Alejandro knew his son valued his privacy. His life was his alone. Now he was being forced to tell a part of his life he had tried desperately to hide from his friends and family.

Diego slowly opened his eyes. He blinked several times before sitting up straighter. Bernardo noticed the pain and fatigue in his master's face. He frowned. Diego saw this and tried to smile. He succeeded in a slightly lopsided grin that didn't satisfy Bernardo's motherly instincts.

Diego shrugged and waved Bernardo closer. He then made several slashes with his arm, imitating the swing of a sword. He saw Bernardo's eyes widen, and he shook his head. Bernardo for a moment had thought Diego had told them about Zorro. Diego brought his hands together and then separated them and brought them straight down. He then brought them together again. Bernardo understood that Diego wanted him to get a chest. Diego made another sweeping gesture and then formed a circle with his left hand, while continuing the sweeping motion with his right. Bernardo suddenly understood that it had nothing to do with Zorro, but rather Diego's trophies and awards from his time in Spain. He wanted the chest he kept under the bed. Bernardo nodded again and headed to Diego's room.

The men in the sala waited silently untile he returned. A few minutes later, Bernardo appeared carrying a long, wooden chest. He carried it down the steps and stopped in front of Diego. Bernardo reached into his pocket and pulled out a key. He handed it to Diego and quickly left. He knew what was in the chest. He had seen its contents on several occasions. He had even packed them in this very chest when Diego was called back home. Bernardo looked back before he entered the library. Diego had just begun to put the key in the lock when Bernardo slipped through the library door and headed to the cave entrance to water and feed Tornado.

Diego held the key in his unsteady hands and slowly pushed it in the keyhole. The lock turned stiffly but within moments an audible click was heard. Diego lifted the lid to reveal his trophies, medals, and the delicate rapier he had received from the University. Diego heard a chorus of gasps when the lid was opened and the men could see the collection of awards.

A tentative hand reached for the rapier. Diego nodded at his father and watched the awe on his face as Alejandro gently picked up the weapon. "Diego," Alejandro began, his voice full of emotion. "Diego, this…this is the highest honor you can receive at the University. Not many have been awarded this. You…" Alejandro could not form the question he wanted to ask. His son was a master with the blade, and had earned this title in only three years.

Don Fernando looked at Diego with pride. He had never met someone who had earned the sword while at the University in Madrid. Don Fernando spoke for the first time since Diego had arrived, "Diego…Diego, you should be proud of your accomplishments, no matter what pain or trouble they have caused. This is something few men can boast about, yet you have never even told your father or your friends." Fernando stopped and cleared his throat. He felt ashamed of himself and the others who had judged Diego as weak and had branded him a coward. Cowards didn't become sword masters.

Fernando began again, "Diego, I am sorry."

"Sorry?" Diego questioned. What did any of them have to be sorry about? He was the one who has lied to them all these years, has misled them about who he was. Why was Fernando apologizing?

"Sí. We all assumed because you did not fight you were a coward." Fernando looked around him and saw the men around him nod slowly. He could see the embarrassment and shame on their faces, especially Alejandro. Alejandro sat with the sword in his hands and his head bowed, but Fernando saw the clench of his jaw and the moistness on his cheeks.

"Lo siento," was all Alejandro said. He could barely speak past the lump in his throat, and he knew if he tried to say anymore his voice would betray him.

"It is fine Father. I wanted you to think that. You did only what I wanted you to do. You saw me as I presented my self. A poet, a man of science and art. Not a swordsmen, not a master." Diego shook his head as he continued, his voice firm and confident. "If anyone should be sorry it is me. I fooled you all. Lied to you. I shied away from the things I had grown weary of."

Diego smiled slightly, "I suppose you were right. I was a coward. I took the easy way out. I…I didn't want to play with someone's life. Not again. I thought that by hiding it, pretending I knew nothing about swords or fighting, I could live life like I wanted. I am scholar. It is what I have always been."

"No, Diego." Don Carlos insisted. "That is not true. You wanted a different life. So you gave yourself one. That is not cowardice. Fernando was right. We all thought you were a coward. You could have spoken out and changed our minds. But you didn't. That is not the act of a coward, Diego."

**TBC**


	12. Chapter 12

Diego tried to protest but his father put his hand on his arm to silence him. "No, Diego. Carlos is right. You are no coward…" Alejandro knelt in front of his son, "Please forgive us Diego. We have misjudged you terribly."

Diego did not know what to say. For the last several hours he had dreaded this moment. He was certain these men would condemn him. Why would they trust him after he had deceived them? What had he done to earn their trust?

The men seemed to read Diego's thoughts. Don Carlos answered Diego's wordless questions. "You have done more for each of us and the pueblo then we could count. You have always been honorable, a true caballero. Most, if not all the Dons respect you, the peons adore you, and the Indians consider you their friend. You have helped almost everyone in this pueblo at least once. Diego, it doesn't matter if you kept your fighting a secret. We respect your choice. You had no reason to use your sword with Zorro here. You were able do what others couldn't, what Zorro hasn't been able to do. You became friends with the pueblo and its people. You help them with all their problems. Zorro, your father, the other Dons…we are only there when Monastario does something against the people. You are always there to lend a hand. Not many can say that." Don Carlos finished his speech and clasped Diego's shoulder. "We will see you tomorrow," Don Carlos smiled. "You can show us what you can really do with the sword, then we will," he indicated the men around him, "help you, if you wish, decide what to do about Ignacio Fuentes."

The two men who had accompanied Don Carlos stood and each in turn gave Diego a pat on the back. Don Armando smiled at Diego, "Buenos noches, Diego. We shall see you in the morning."

Don Rafael also bid the remaining men goodnight, "Buenos noches, señores." Don Rafael nodded to Fernando and clasped Alejandro's arm and bent close, "We will see you tomorrow. Rest easy, mi amigo. We will help protect Diego." He smiled slightly, the right corner of his mouth rose a little, "Though it seems he doesn't need it."

Alejandro stood and walked the men to the door. Fernando was a step behind them. They both watched as the men retrieved their horses and headed toward their own ranches. It wasn't until they were out of sight that Alejandro realized he should have asked his friends to stay the night. It had grown late, and the moon was only at its quarter, offering little light for the men to see by. Alejandro shrugged. It was for the best. He was certain Diego did not want the men here.

At the thought of Diego, Alejandro turned to face his son. He barely noticed Fernando's absence, but he silently thanked his friend for anticipating his wishes. Alejandro faced his son. Diego once again had his eyes shut. The wooden chest remained open. The sword sat on the chair where Alejandro had set it moments before. He carefully picked it up and set it in the chest. Alejandro shut the lid and turned the key in the lock. He stood and turned toward the library. He was surprised to see Bernardo standing a few feet behind him. Alejandro gestured for Bernardo to set the trunk in the corner.

Alejandro turned back to Diego. He could see Diego was asleep. Alejandro did not blame him. Diego, still recovering from his injuries, had come face to face with the man who was likely responsible for those injuries, and in those few moments the stranger to Los Angeles had turned his son's life upside down.

Alejandro reached over and gently nudged Diego, "Come, mi hijo. We must get you to your room." Alejandro was rewarded with a slight moan and a shake of his son's head. Alejandro prompted his son to wake up again, "Diego, you need to get to your room. Come on, I will help you." This time Alejandro saw Diego open his hazel eyes.

"All right, Father." Diego stood on wobbly legs and took a shaky step toward the stairs. He would have fallen had Alejandro not grabbed his elbow. Diego leaned against his father, and with Alejandro's help, Diego made it to his room. Diego felt so tired that he never even thought to feel ashamed at his weakness. Besides, Alejandro's warm embrace felt soothing. It had been a long time since Diego had felt so close to his father.

Alejandro sat Diego on the bed and headed toward Diego's wardrobe. He pulled out a long night gown and Diego's robe. Alejandro laid the robe on the chair beside Diego's bed and placed the night gown on top of the sheets. He watched as Diego attempted to undo the buttons of his white shirt. Alejandro moved his son's hands away and helped Diego undress.

Alejandro had not done this for Diego since he was little. Diego did not say anything as his father pulled off his boots and helped him slip the night gown over his body. Diego undid the sash and unbuckled his pants and slowly pulled them off. When Diego was safe in his bed Alejandro couldn't resist the urge to place a kiss on his son's forehead. He brushed a stray hair from Diego's face and whispered goodnight to his son, but he could tell that Diego was already asleep. Alejandro quietly left and shut his son's door.

Don Alejandro once again felt overwhelmed. This last month had taken its toll on Alejandro and he felt tired and old. He slowly made his way to his room and changed into his own night gown. Alejandro fell into a deep sleep seconds after his head hit his down pillow. The day had sapped the last of Alejandro's strength.

**ZZZ**

Ignacio Fuentes stopped his horse in front of a small shack. He tied the animal to the porch rail and entered the dark building. A lamp was mounted on the wall next to the door and Ignacio lit it with a match. The lamp lit most of the small shack. Only the small bedroom remained dark. Moving swiftly, Ignacio lit the lamp in the bedroom then returned to the main room. It wasn't much, but not many people knew about it. Ignacio had been living here for more than a month. It was by sheer luck he had run across the abandoned building. A storm had hit as Ignacio was making his way from Monterey and in the dark he had strayed from the seldom-used path.

The lightning had revealed the tilted shack and Ignacio had sheltered in the dusty room for two days why the storm raged outside. The roof leaked in several spots, but they were near the wall and could be avoided easily. A stove was in one corner, a small round table sat beside it. Another low table was in front of a dusty, worn sofa, and a small wooden rocking chair was near the lone window on the east side of the shack. A bedroom, no more than an extension of the main room, sat near the kitchen. The roof above the bedroom was partially missing, the shingles having fallen off long ago. Ignacio managed to salvage the bed, though the sheets were already damp from the leak in the roof. He also found a few clean sheets that had been stored in a small chest by the bed. He had moved the bed into the main room and used the musty sheets as bed covers.

A thought had occurred to the young man after the rain had cleared and he was about to leave. He had wanted a place he could hide in while he sought out information about Diego, some place that he could remain hidden from most people, only going into a town when he needed supplies or questions answered. The peasants were generous people and many provided useful information about Diego. No one seemed surprised or worried that he had taken in interest in the young man. Many of the peons and dons Ignacio talked to praised Diego and thought of him as a perfect caballero. He was handsome, generous, and mannerly. Strangely though, no one had mentioned Diego's ability with a sword. In fact, many had pointed out that Diego was a pacifist, avoiding most confrontations, and to Ignacio's knowledge he had never handle a sword since his return to Los Angeles. He was almost sure no one knew Diego was a master swordsman.

Even before coming to California, Ignacio had made inquiries about Diego and he had employed several men to find out who Diego's friends were, where they lived, and what Diego's days were like. The hate he felt toward Diego had only swelled over the years. He had practiced with the blade every day for hours until his arms were so tired he could barely lift them, and his leg muscles were taught and strained from the lunges.

Ignacio removed his coat and sat on the cot he had set up in the one corner of the room that did not leak. He traced the scar on his face and his anger was fueled further. In the tavern he had almost gotten through to some but Diego's father and friends had stepped in. They would soon realize what Diego was. He would prove that Diego did not deserve the respect most gave him. He was a murderer and a coward, and he would pay dearly for what he had done.

Ignacio smiled as he thought of one piece of information he had not yet used. Another piece of information kept swimming through the tales he had heard. El Zorro seemed to be on the tip of every tongue in Lower California, and his praises were as prevalent as Diego's. Ignacio smiled. He knew the man behind the mask.

**TBC**


	13. Chapter 13

The morning came early and Alejandro rubbed his weary eyes before pushing himself out of bed. He dressed slowly, trying to give Diego an extra few minutes of sleep. Alejandro splashed water on his face and tried to wash away the tiredness. He knew he was tired and it showed. Hopefully this ordeal would soon be over and both he and Diego could finally rest.

At the thought of Diego, Alejandro frowned. He had always thought Diego a passive, gentle man, but within hours he had learned that his son was a master with the sword and because of it a man was now dead. Alejandro knew Diego did only what he thought he must, but the idea of his son ever taking a life set heavy on Alejandro. He knew the burden men bear after taking a life, and he would never wish that upon his child.

Alejandro shook his head and returned his thoughts to this morning. He wished he had not promised to wake Diego. Yesterday had taken its toll and Alejandro knew his son was still not fully healed. He never should have left the house yesterday. _If I had only said no, none of this would be happening_, Alejandro chided himself, though he knew in his heart that Ignacio would have entered their life sometime in the near future.

Alejandro walked the short distance to his son's room and knocked on the door, "Diego, are you awake? It is just after six."

"Gracias, Father. I will be out in a few minutes," came the sleepy reply.

"I will see you at breakfast Diego," Alejandro said. He made his way to the breakfast table that sat in a small room that adjoined the kitchen. A square table sat in the middle of the room. Two windows adorned the outside wall and a family portrait hung on the west wall. Alejandro glanced at the portrait and smiled slightly. Even when young, Diego took after his mother. He had her hazel eyes and her tall graceful frame. Alejandro missed his Elena, especially when he couldn't help his son. His wife always knew what to say to Diego. She could read her son's every expression and knew exactly what he was thinking. Alejandro could never read his son. At times like this, he would seek his wife's advice, but now Alejandro could only rely on his own understanding of Diego. He just hoped he could help his son.

Alejandro shifted his gaze to the doorway and nodded as Don Fernando entered. "Buenos dias, amigo," Alejandro greeted.

"Buenos dias. I saw Diego in the hall. He said he will be down as soon as he finds Bernardo." Don Fernando said as he took his place at the table. He loved this small room. The windows on the east wall caught the morning sun and washed the room in a golden light. The view from the windows overlooked rolling hills and trees. Don Fernando had always enjoyed eating in the comfortable little room, and had tried to recreate a similar space in his own home. The effect was close, but it was not as beautiful as the view Don Alejandro had created.

"Buenos dias, señores. I hope you slept well," Don Diego greeted as he entered the room. He sat at the foot of the table, opposite his father, and smiled at the two men. He hoped he didn't look as tired as he felt. He had never fallen back to sleep after his dream, but lay awake replaying yesterday over and over in his mind.

"Buenos dias, Diego," Alejandro smiled at his son. "It is good to finally share a breakfast together," Don Alejandro joked. Since his beating, Diego had not emerged from his room before nine o'clock, with his father's urging.

"Don't blame me father. You were the one who decided I should sleep in." Diego chuckled knowing this was his father's attempt to start the day off in a good light.

"I believe he has you there Alejandro. Of course, Diego has been taking your advice for years now," Don Fernando remarked, a smile splitting his face.

"True. True." Diego relented as Maria entered with their breakfast.

The men enjoyed a breakfast of fruits and eggs, as they discussed the working of the ranch, the sunny morning, and Don Fernando's attempt to recreate Don Alejandro's breakfast room in his own home. The three gentlemen laughed at old stories and old times. For now, yesterday and the previous weeks had never occurred.

Unfortunately for the men, the peaceful morning did not last long. Don Alejandro and Don Fernando had just stepped into the bright sunlight when the sounds of riders reached them. Not expecting Don Carlos and the others back until later in the morning, neither man could guess who the visitors were going to be. They were shocked to see Captain Monastario and Sergeant Garcia stop before the gates.

Don Fernando looked at Don Alejandro and then at their guests. He greeted the men as they neared the gate, "Commandante, Sergeant." Monastario nodded in return and Sergeant Garcia boomed out a good morning in his deep voice, "Buenos días, señores."

"Capitán, I see you have returned from Monterey. How was your trip? Pleasant I hope." Don Alejandro greeted the man politely, a fake smile on his face. He turned to the large man beside Monastario and the smile became real, "And you Sergeant, what do I owe the pleasure of your visit."

The sergeant grinned and dismounted. "I am merely escorting the commandante, Don Alejandro. Is Diego here?" The sergeant asked.

"Sí, he should be out any min…" Alejandro did not finish the sentence. The voice of his only child floated across the plaza, and Alejandro smiled slightly. It was always good to hear Diego's voice, especially after the beating.

"Sergeant, Commandante, what do we owe the pleasure? Was your trip successful, Commandante? You are back early." Diego asked as he made his way down the stairs from his room and into the plaza.

"Buenos días, Diego. I was just asking Don Alejandro if you were here. It is good to see you." Sergeant Garcia said.

"Just as good as it is to see you Sergeant." Diego smiled at his large friend. Diego chuckled beneath his breath as he watched the sergeant make his way toward him. Sergeant Garcia may work for a corrupt government, but the man himself was as good and childlike as they come.

Sergeant Garcia clasped a big hand around Diego's trim fingers. "You look well today." Garcia stopped and looked behind him at the Commandante talking to the two older Dons. Lowering his voice he turned back to Diego, "I heard what happened in the inn yesterday. That is what Capitan Monastario wishes to speak to you about."

Sergeant Garcia smiled before continuing, the lines around his eyes crinkled in amusement. "To think anyone would believe what that oaf said. I know you Don Diego. You are a just man."

Diego nodded his head and smiled. If the Sergeant only knew he had just called the Fox, the most wanted man in Southern California, a just man. The handsome Don's thoughts were disturbed by a rough voice. "The perfect caballero has finally managed to get his hands dirty." Monastario laughed dryly, his eyes showing none of the humor his voice suggested.

Disgust rose in Diego and he glanced at his hands. Were they indeed 'dirty' like Monastario suggested? Diego thought he had hidden that day in the back of his mind. He assumed it would just be one more thing he kept hidden, this time even from himself. Diego stared at his hands, a dark expression on his features.

"Diego?" Alejandro's voice broke through Diego's dark thoughts.

"Sí, Father," Diego asked as he looked into the concerned features of his father and Sergeant Garcia. The young Don could not tell what emotion had crossed Captain Monastario's face, but he was certain it was not concern. Curiosity, perhaps?

Captain Monastario watched as Diego's face resumed its usual careless expression, a slight smile upon his lips. What had he seen in the man's eyes? The amount of control the Don had on his feelings and how quickly he could reign in any stray emotion had always amazed the Capitán. Monastario knew there was more to the man then the placid attitude he showed to the world. He was a de la Vega, and Monastario was certain some of Alejandro's passions had been passed down to his son.

Diego was quite the contrast to his father. Alejandro was known for his temper and quickness to fight for what he believed in. Alejandro was not afraid of conflict, be it verbal or physical. He didn't delve into the more peaceful endeavors, leaving the art and science world to his studious son.

Diego, unlike his father, was quiet and slow to anger. Monastario could not remember a time when the Don had lost his temper, and he knew Diego's composure had been tested in the past. The Commandante was not certain why this revelation disturbed him, but he shook off the feeling and addressed Diego again.

"I heard about the incident in the tavern. What I want to know is if it is true." A grin spread across Monastario's face. He brushed a hand down his goatee as he waited for an answer. Monastario narrowed his eyes and ran a hand through his black hair. When Diego did not answer, he opened his mouth to repeat his question but stopped at the sound of horses. All of the men in the courtyard turned toward the gate to see three dons pulling up on their reigns. Don Carlos and his two companions, Don Rafael and Don Armando, dismounted and handed their horses to a young boy who ran up from the stables.

"Gracias, Felipe." Armando said as he patted the young man's head. Armando followed his two friends through the gate and into the courtyard. "Buenos dias, señores. The morning is treating you well I hope."

Don Alejandro stepped forward and grasped the hands of his three friends. "Buenos dias. It is good to see you. The Commandante and Sergeant Garcia were just leaving." Alejandro turned and shook the hand of the large sergeant. "Adios, my friend. We hope to see you again soon."

Alejandro nodded to the Capitán, "Adios, Commandante." Alejandro turned toward his new guests, "Maria has some lemonade inside. Diego are you joining us?"

"Sí, father. I will be in soon." Alejandro nodded and walked inside the cool hacienda. The four dons followed him and Diego was left alone with Sergeant Garcia and Capitán Monastario.

After the men had retreated into the hacienda, Monastario repeated his question. "Are the rumors I have heard about you true?

Diego's calculated response grated on Monastario's nerves. "That depends on what you heard?"

Monastario's grin vanished and was replaced with an exasperated twitch of his lips as they straightened into a compressed line. "I heard," Monastario quipped, emphasizing his words, "that you are not as inept as you have led us all to believe." The captain accentuated his words with a sweep of his hands.

Diego sighed. He wasn't in the mood to deal with the Spanish capitán. His head was beginning to hurt, and he knew his eyes did not hold the casual humor his face did. Reluctantly he answered the captain. "Sí, it is true."

The grin returned to the Commandante's face. Monastario never cared for Diego, why he was not certain, and seeing the son of Alejandro uneasy and off-balance was satisfying to the corrupt Capitán. Diego saw the smile return to the Commandante's lips. The image sent a slight shiver down his spine, and it took all Diego's control not to physically shudder at the expression of the Capitán. Diego knew that Monastario was piecing together what he knew, and Diego was aware it wouldn't be long before the man connected him with Zorro. Diego was certain Ignacio would eventually tell the Commandante what he knew; it was just a matter of time.

Diego frowned at a sudden thought. It could all be over tomorrow. All Ignacio had to do was talk to Monastario and tell him what he was like in Spain. It wouldn't take much for Monastario to figure out that Diego fit not only the physical description but, at one time had also, fit the character description of Zorro as well. Monastario will simply decide this new Diego was a means to hide Diego's similarity to Zorro. Diego, for the first time since donning the mask, was afraid that his escapades could come to an abrupt halt. The fox was fast becoming trapped in an ever closing net.

"So you have known how to fight since your return. Why is it that you never told anyone? Even your father." Monastario asked. Not waiting for a reply he continued, "Perhaps it is because you didn't want anyone to connect you to the exploits of a certain outlaw."

Diego feigned confusion, his head tilted slightly to the side, his lips pressed together in thought. "What exploits?"

"Do not act ignorant Diego. If there is one thing that remains constant with you, it is that you are far from being ignorant."

Diego smiled, a bemused expression born from the irony of his situation. His eyes grew darker, the light hazel losing the golden flecks. No, he wasn't dumb. But despite his intelligence he could not fathom a way out of the mess he found himself in.

Monastario shuddered at the expression on Diego's face. The smile seemed almost dark. It was nothing like the easy-going, careless smile Diego generally wore. Monastario did not know what the smile meant, but he knew Diego did not wear it because of pleasure. There was no humor in Diego's hazel eyes. Monastario thought they looked sullen, bemused. The sight disturbed Monastario and he turned his eyes away, instead focusing on the trees behind Diego.

"I am sure you know which 'exploits' I am talking about. I am growing impatient." Monastario glared at the man before him. "Tell me, Diego, why you never told anyone you could fight? Certainly there have been times when your…expertise would have been useful," Monastario said his voice light with humor. Despite what he had been told and Diego's admission he could not picture the Don as an expert swordsman. The awkward, blundering attempts he had seen before seemed far more likely than the outlandish claims he had been hearing.

Diego said nothing. What was there to say? He did not want to tell Monastario what he had told his father and the other dons last night. Diego respected his privacy and was not going to divulge any unneeded information to the Commandante. Instead he turned to the large Sergeant, "What do you think, Sergeant Garcia? Am I the masked bandit?"

Garcia looked at Diego, "I do not think so Diego. You are too calm and you do not like violence. I know Zorro almost as well as anyone, perhaps better. No…no, I am certain he is not you. I told the Commandante that the last time he thought you were Zorro.

"Thank you Sergeant. Perhaps you would care to meet me at the tavern around 2:00 for some lunch?" Diego grinned as the sergeant's face brightened. He could always depend on Garcia to brighten his day. The Sergeant seemed to have more faith in Diego than he did himself.

"Sí, Diego. Sí. That sounds wonderful." The sergeant spoke quickly, his voice rising slightly in joy. Garcia never turned down a meal with Diego. Diego always listened to the sergeant and he never cared how much wine the sergeant drank. Diego was a good friend and Garcia always enjoyed the time spent with him.

"Good, Sergeant. I will see you in a few hours." Diego shook Sergeant Garcia's large hand and nodded to the Commandante.

"We have not finished this conversation Diego," the Commandante warned. "Come on Sergeant," he said as he headed toward the gate and his horse. Monastario was frustrated that he did not get any admissions from Diego. He would find Zorro, Monastario promised himself.

Diego watched as the men disappeared. His normally handsome face was drawn into an uncharacteristic scowl. His lips were turned down and small wrinkles traced their way between his down cast eyes. Diego took a deep breath and willed his stomach to stop turning. Diego slumped, his shoulders falling out of their normally straight position.

He felt trapped and the feeling was unsettling. He had never before been in a position where he doubted his ability to escape, yet he could not see a way out of the trap he was caught in. Ignacio Fuentes could very possible end Diego's life as Zorro and perhaps Diego's life altogether. The thought was chilling and despite the heat of the morning sun Diego shivered.

A hand patted Diego's shoulder and he jumped slightly. He turned to look into the worried brown eyes of his friend Bernardo. "I am fine Bernardo. Just a little tired."

Bernardo shook his head and rolled his eyes. "I could never deceive you my friend. Perhaps you are right. I am worried about Ignacio. He knows far too much about me. This could all be over soon Bernardo." A sudden thought occurred to Diego, "Bernardo you must leave. If they find out who I am they will connect you to Zorro as well. You are in danger my friend."

Bernardo signed that he wasn't going anywhere. Diego grasped his friends arm to show his appreciation. In reality, he did not want his friend to go. Bernardo was the only one Diego could talk to, his only confidant besides Tornado.

"Now what is it you were sent to tell me? Does father want me inside? Yes. Come on then. I am sure you want some of Maria's lemonade as well." Bernardo smiled and lead Diego into the hacienda. The building felt cool in the early morning and Diego relished the feeling, knowing all to well the heat of summer was fast approaching. Bernardo followed Diego into the house.

**TBC**

**A/N: Thanks for everyone who has reviewed.**


	14. Chapter 14

The Dons had all seated themselves around the sala, and Maria was passing out tall glasses of fresh lemonade. Diego took the glass Maria handed him with a smile. He turned to Bernardo and nodded his head toward a chair in the corner. Bernardo nodded and reached for a glass of lemonade. He settled into the leather chair and sipped at the beverage.

Diego too sipped at the cool liquid, enjoying the slightly tart taste. He walked over to the divan and sat beside his father. The room was quiet. The men sat enjoying their drinks and the peace it brought with it. It was several minutes before the stillness was broken. Don Carlos cleared his throat and turned his dark eyes on Diego. "Last night, you showed us you were more than we were willing to see--we were blind. We are not proud of our disservice to you Diego. Our strength and power, whatever it may be, is yours. The four of us," Don Carlos swung his tanned arm in a wide circle that encompassed Don Armando, Rafael, and Fernando, "make up some of the largest landowners in Lower California. Anything we have to offer is yours. Ignacio Fuentes will not harm you."

Don Diego was taken aback at the loyalty Don Carlos and the others bestowed upon him. He was overwhelmed at their generosity and felt he did not deserve such a promise. It was his fault, and his alone, that Ignacio was in California. If he had not created Zorro, there would be no real need to worry. Ignacio could challenge Diego without threatening the pueblo's champion fox. He knew that the four men, and possibly the other dons as well, would do whatever they could to help him. But Diego knew they could not stop Ignacio from revealing the fact that he was the masked bandit. Diego doubted they could even protect him if his identity became known.

Still, Diego nodded his head. "Your offer is very much appreciated, Don Carlos. If I need your assistance, I will not hesitate to ask. I am sure Father will ask for me if I do not."  
Alejandro smiled sheepishly at his son. "I only do what I think is best for you Diego."

"I know father. And I appreciate it. Never doubt that."

Alejandro nodded his head. He cleared his throat and changed the subject. "I thought you were going to show us some of your fancy swordsmanship, Diego. If you are still willing, it would be better to finish before the afternoon sun becomes too hot."  
The other dons voiced their agreement as they rose. Diego stood up and waved toward Bernardo. Bernardo watched impatiently as Diego went through the hand motions of describing what he needed. Sometimes, Bernardo wished everyone knew he could hear just so they could forgo the time consuming display. Despite his anxiety, Bernardo acted the dutiful and deaf servant, watching Diego's hand signals diligently. After a moment, Diego stopped the charade and Bernardo nodded. He wasn't sure if he agreed with what Diego had told the Dons, nor of his impending display, but, like Diego, he could see not other option. The Dons and Alejandro were not stupid. While, Ignacio was not a man to be believed, Diego had, perhaps foolishly, confirmed Ignacio's accusation that he could fight.

Bernardo could not stop the doubt and worry that ran rampant in his mind. He knew that Ignacio was a man who would stop at nothing to get back at Diego. Bernardo suspected there was little Ignacio would not do to hurt Diego, and that included hurting Alejandro or Bernardo himself. Bernardo resolved to be careful when he was alone. He did not want Ignacio to use him against Diego. From what Bernardo knew of Ignacio Fuentes from his time in Spain, he was a cold and calculating man. Bernardo feared he knew that Diego was Zorro. When he would show his hand, Bernardo did not know. But he had not doubt that Ignacio would produce his Ace, and then, well…that was what Bernardo feared.

His mind was heavy as he topped the stairs and knelt at the bed. He had replaced the chest late last night as Diego slept, and now he once again pulled it from under the wooden frame. He carefully pulled out the sword and closed the lid. He left it unlocked, knowing he would return the prized weapon soon.

Diego and the other Dons were waiting in the plaza. Bernardo handed Diego the rapier, and Diego smiled his thanks. Diego had dreaded this moment since last night. If he fought, he was certain the men would realize he was Zorro. Yet, Diego could not think of a practical reason not to let the Dons see his fighting. He owed them that much he felt. Diego swallowed against the knot in his chest. Doctor Hernandez knew, now five others may soon join the ever growing circle. Diego feared that the circle would continue to widen and that he would be unable to stop it. Don Diego de la Vega took a slow breath and resolved himself to his fate. What would come, would come, he decided.

Diego held the sword carefully, feeling the weight and balance in his expert hands. He had not used the blade since his return from Spain. It was lighter than the sword he used as Zorro, and its balance was slightly different. Using his wrist, Diego swung the blade in several short arcs in order to reacquaint himself with the weapon.

The other men watched fascinated, as the previously inept Diego transformed into a master swordsman. After his short warm-up Diego moved into a series of lunges and parries, attacking an invisible enemy. Diego tried to alter his style so that the Dons did not see Zorro in his movements. However, Diego had fought far too long as Zorro, and his movements as the masked bandit had become instinctive.

Alejandro stared with wide eyes. Diego was indeed a master. His movements were graceful and powerful, his lunges quick and deadly. A nagging image materialized at the edge of Alejandro's thoughts and for a moment a masked face replaced that of Diego's. Alejandro gasped as the image came unbidden to his mind. _No_, he thought. _It…it could not be!_ Alejandro shook his head to rid himself of the thought. Diego simply did not fight. He may be a natural swordsman, but he was not a fighter. He was a poet, a scholar at heart. Yet, the image of the masked man would not leave and Alejandro found himself accepting that there was more to Diego than he had ever believed.

Alejandro looked at the other men beside him. The men's expressions were identical. Their eyes were wide and wonder filled. Had they too figured out that Diego was more than anyone had ever dreamt he was? No…Alejandro was certain they had yet to figure it out. They were surprised, yes, but at Diego's skill, not his alter ego.

Diego was finishing his exhibition. His breaths came loud in his own ears and his muscles burned slightly from the exercise. He did not look at the men before him. Uncertainty would not let him. Diego knew Zorro had been with him. The other man was a part of Diego and he could not hide Zorro when he was fighting. Diego was not a fighter, Zorro was. Zorro's movements were ingrained in Diego's very being and no matter how hard he tried he could not keep Zorro's fiery presence from his fighting.

Summoning his courage, Diego looked up and into the faces of five very shocked faces. No one said anything as they all stared at Diego. The man they thought they knew had vanished and it his place, a new, stronger Diego had emerged. It was Alejandro who finally broke the awkward silence. "You…you are," Alejandro stopped himself. He was about to tell Diego he knew he was Zorro, but something in Diego's expression warned him not to. Was it worry or fear? Alejandro did not know. He finished his sentence with a sigh, "…truly a master, my son." The other four Dons nodded vigorously. Only Don Fernando seemed to pause in thought before he too agreed. But Alejandro had been wrong about the Dons, for they had all come to the same conclusion about Diego--that he was indeed the Fox.

**ZZZ**

Ignacio Fuentes saddled his chestnut mare and mounted the creature smoothly. Capitán Monastario had returned from Monterey, and Ignacio felt it was time to pay the man a visit. Ignacio felt it was important to meet a man first hand before he was to be considered a potential ally. Everything he had heard about Monastario indicated he would be eager to have Ignacio help him. Zorro was a bandit that had insulted and outwitted the Commandante, and Ignacio was certain the man would like nothing better than to have Zorro in his clutches.

Despite the information he had gathered, Ignacio wanted to be certain he could trust Monastario. Perhaps not trust, Ignacio mused. He trusted no one. Ignacio turned his thoughts to other matters as he nudged his mount toward the pueblo. If he was going to spin a web that snared the fox, he had to draw the cunning man out, make him decide the first move. Ignacio knew that Diego would simply ignore any threats to himself, but he knew Diego cared deeply for the people of Los Angeles and his father.

Ignacio smiled, his lips barely brushing the tops of his white teeth. It was not a handsome smile. It darkened Ignacio's face and made his features cruel. His eyes were shadowed by his dark blue hat and his sword hilt reflected the red of the sash that was tied around the scabbard, increasing the aura of danger that surrounded the man.

Ignacio entered Los Angeles through the main gates. He guided his horse around small wooden carts, stray dogs, and children that littered the town plaza. He half circled the fountain that lay in the center of the plaza before turning his horse toward the barracks. He dismounted and tied his horse to a wooden rail. He stroked the mare's neck for a moment before turning to the large wooden gate and the two guards who stood on either side.

"I am here to see the Commandante."

"May I have your name sir?" One of the guards asked.

"Ignacio Fuentes."

The guard nodded and turned on his heels. He entered the dusty cuartel and disappeared around a building. Ignacio waited in the sun next to the other soldier. The guard returned within a few minutes and ushered Ignacio inside. "The Commandante can see you know. Please, follow me."

The guard led Ignacio to a small, white washed building. The door was left partially open in the hope of letting in a cool breeze and Ignacio entered without knocking. Monastario looked up from his paperwork and motioned to a small chair in front of his desk. He quickly finished signing the report and set it aside. "I heard about your little tirade in the tavern the other day. The entire pueblo is still talking about it."

Ignacio smiled, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly. "I do enjoy a bit of drama now and then," Ignacio confessed.

Monastario smiled tight lipped, the corners of his mouth barely moving upward. "What are you doing in our small pueblo, señor? From what I have heard you are from Spain."

"Sí, I am from Spain. I have to take care of some unfinished business. I shouldn't be here more than a few weeks. Perhaps less."

Monastario nodded absently. He did not quite trust this caballero. "What is your business?"

Ignacio shrugged, "Personal. But you might be interested in it. It involves Diego. I know you can not stand the de la Vega's and with good reason. They are meddling fools who do not know their place. I intend to fix that problem."

Monastario raised a dark eyebrow. "How do you plan on doing that? The de la Vega's are one of the most wealthy and well connected families in California. The other Dons will not sit idle if you threaten them. You are on a fool's errand." That is the reason Monastario had not truly acted on his belief that Diego was Zorro. He would not dare go against the de la Vegas without someone else backing him, he was not a stupid man.

"Perhaps," Ignacio agreed and stood. "I must take my leave Capitán. I am certain we will meet again before my business is finished. And maybe I will have something that interests you. Buenos tardes, señor."

Ignacio left the pueblo at a fast trot. He was pleased with his little visit--Monastario might be an asset that he could use. Ignacio Fuentes smirked, a dark expression that shadowed his handsome features. _It was time to have a little more fun_, he thought.

**TBC**


	15. Chapter 15

Diego hesitated as relief flooded through his mind. He slowly let out the breath he had been holding and loosened his grip on his rapier. He nodded his head in reply to his father's remark, dark bangs falling over hazel eyes. His body shook slightly from the rush of adrenaline and the fatigue that now settled into his taunt body. He had feared the men would see the mask he still wore as Diego, would figure out he was indeed the cunning fox. While Diego was grateful his secret was still safe, he felt a small pang of remorse that they could not see him for what he truly was. A small part of Diego wanted the respect that would come from being Zorro. He wanted to be seen as he truly was, not two characters he had created. Diego quieted the thought however, knowing that it would mean danger for the men before him, and for Diego himself. Still, Diego couldn't help but feel it would ease the burden somewhat.

Diego felt a hand on his shoulder and looked into the face of Don Carlos. "You are truly gifted Diego. It is a shame no one else has seen your skill. I can see why so many would want to duel with you—you are magnificent." _It is a shame no one has seen the real you Diego. You have hidden behind a mask far too long,_ Carlos thought to himself.

"Gracias, Don Carlos. But I am not as talented as some."

"Perhaps not, but I would not challenge you. Even Zorro would have a hard time defeating you." Don Carlos smiled at his own joke. Of course, no one else knew he had made one.  
Diego smiled slightly and nodded his head as he spoke, "Oh…I have a feeling I would be no match for Zorro. He fights almost everyday against armed soldiers. I have barely touched a sword since I returned. No…Zorro would make fairly quick work of me." Diego smirked, a look the men had not seen before on the tall caballero. "Although, not nearly as quick as he finishes Monastario. Or Garcia."

The men looked at Diego for a moment in silence, not used to Diego's witty insight. It was Alejandro who broke the quiet. His smile radiated to his eyes and he laughed. "You are right Diego. You are right."

Don Armando slapped Diego on the shoulder good naturedly, silently congratulating him on his fencing. Don Rafael shook his head in disbelief before adding, "You are something else Diego--a scholar, a swordsman, a true Caballero. If only you would let others see you for who you truly are. You must not fear your gifts. Few are as talented as you Diego. Please, do not waste your skill."

Diego smiled, his lips pressed tightly together. Diego had hid his true self for so long now he was not sure who he truly was--a fighter, a poet, a scholar, or something in between. "I will think about what you said, Don Rafael."

"That is all I ask. You should not hide Diego." Don Rafael clasped Diego's upper arm and squeezed it gently before turning to Don Alejandro and the quiet conversation the other Dons were having.

Diego stood away from the men as they talked. He nerves were still on fire from the excursion and his heart beat rapidly in his chest. Don Rafael's words replayed themselves in Diego's mind: _you should not hide Diego_. Was he hiding? Well, yes…he was. Diego could not let the pueblo see the fire and passion he had. They could not see the powerful drive for justice that drove him to the masked deception he created. They could not see who he truly was or they would soon discover the identity of Zorro. Diego had to admit that he was hiding, but that it was for the good of the pueblo. Ruefully, Diego had to confess that perhaps it was not best for him or his father.

Diego sighed at the thought of his father. Alejandro only wanted a son he could be proud of, someone who took after his own heart and had as much passion and zeal for life as he did. Diego knew he could be that son, had been that son before he left to Spain, and if it wasn't for Zorro and the corrupt government that ruled Los Angeles he would be now. Diego took comfort in the fact that Alejandro knew his son could indeed fight, and that he was not nearly as inept as he portrayed himself to be. Still, Diego regretted not being the son his father wanted. Diego promised himself that he would tell his father soon. He deserved to know the truth, even if it put him in danger. Diego would not let Ignacio reveal his secret to his father.

Laughter broke Diego's reverie and he looked up to see the Dons seated at the benches that lay nestled in a corner of the plaza, beneath the shade of several trees. Diego could not remember hearing his father laugh so much since his return from Spain. The man wore a large, proud smile, and his dark eyes shined in the warm glow of the sun.

Diego turned from the scene, his sword felt heavy in his clenched fist and his legs ached. He moved quietly to where Bernardo stood and handed his friend his weapon. "Thank you Bernardo. Please, go check on Tornado and tell him I will see him tonight. Give him an apple for me too."

Bernardo smiled sadly. He could hear the tiredness in Diego's voice and he wished he could do more to help his friend. Bernardo knew how heavy the burden was that Diego carried, and for the hundredth time since Diego became Zorro, Bernardo wished he could help carry part of the weight.

Diego saw the sullen expression on Bernardo's face and knew what his friend was thinking. "You help more than you know, Bernardo. I could not continue as Zorro without your help. Never forget that my friend. Now go and take care of that feisty horse. He is probably pouting like you."  
Bernardo smiled at Diego, a gesture to know he was okay, and turned to enter the house. Bernardo quickly put the sword away and headed to the library. A quick glance around the room told him it was safe. Bernardo pulled the lever and opened the secret passage, slipping into the cool darkness of the cave. He moved quickly in the near darkness and emerged into a large cavern. Tornado was munching lazily on some hay and he looked up as Bernardo entered. He whinnied a greeting before resuming his munching.

Bernardo waved a reply before moving to a woven basket that sat on a tall shelf. He pulled down the basket and grabbed a red apple from within. Bernardo learned quickly that you had to keep apples above Tornado's head or he would hoard the entire thing. Bernardo laughed silently at the beautiful creature, knowing it was the horse's cunning that had helped save Zorro's life on several occasions. Bernardo offered Tornado the apple. The horse munched on it happily and nudged Bernardo, sniffing loudly. Bernardo held his hands palm up in front of the horse to show him he had no more apples. Disappointed, Tornado huffed and turned back to his hay.

Bernardo set about cleaning and straightening the cave. His mind was on Diego and what Ignacio's presence meant. Bernardo knew nothing good could come from Ignacio. He was a ruthless and cunning man who would do anything to even the score he felt was owed him. Bernardo shivered at the thought of what Ignacio could do, and like Diego, Bernardo truly feared for Zorro and his secret.

Bernardo did not know that Diego's thoughts ran parallel to his. Diego stood in the plaza staring at the slow moving limbs that were caught in the gentle breeze. Ignacio was dangerous and Diego could not predict the man's next move. Ignacio held all the cards. Diego was not certain he could counter Ignacio's next move, and that frightened him. Diego was not a man used to fear. As Zorro, he faced death several times, yet he had felt no real fear. Now, with the threat that everything he was and everything he had worked for could come to an end, Diego could not suppress the dread he felt.

Alejandro listened to his friends' chatter, laughing when the other men laughed, smiling when they smiled, but Alejandro was not really listening. He watched his son standing in the plaza where they had left him. Even from this distance, Alejandro knew that Diego was worried. Diego's body was tense, his left fist clenched tight against his thigh, his shoulders hunched slightly. He could see Zorro in him now, and he wondered how he had missed it for all those years.

Ashamed that he had so harshly misjudged his son he turned away from Diego, instead focusing on Don Carlos who was animatedly discussing Diego's swordmanship. Alejandro could not suppress the pride he now felt for Diego. He had always been proud of Diego; he was a skilled musician, artist, and scholar. He was handsome, his looks coming from his mother, and he had Elena's gentle soul. Alejandro only wished that he had known that his son was Zorro. He would have supported Diego, although he would have likely tried to talk him out of it.

Alejandro frowned slightly thinking of the burden that Diego must be carrying. It would be hard to be Zorro without someone knowing. Suddenly, he remembered hearing Diego talk to Bernardo shortly after he was injured. At the time, Alejandro was too worried about Diego to think about what that meant. _Why would he talk to Bernardo? _The Don knew that Bernardo was a part of the secret. _He had to know_, Alejandro decided. _But still, why would Diego talk to Bernardo in private but not in public? Could Bernardo hear?_ His mind whirled at the discovery and he laughed at the idea. _Yes!_ If Bernardo could hear without anyone knowing, just imagine the secrets he could discover. That is how Zorro always seems to know what is going on. _Besides_, Alejandro thought, _Diego is a confidant to many_. It is little wonder Zorro is always there when he is needed.

Alejandro felt a heavy weight lift from his shoulders as the pieces of the puzzle began to come together. He had tried to figure out his son for years now, but things just didn't add up. Now Alejandro was finally seeing the picture for what it was. He was still amazed that he could be so blind for so long. He had become used to Diego as a scholarly poet, with little interest in fighting, and he had never bothered to look further. He would never look at Diego in the same light again. Alejandro decided he would have to add skilled actor to his son's growing list of accomplishments. To live with ridicule and to be branded a weak coward for all these years without ever letting anyone know was one of the most self-sacrificing things Alejandro had ever known anyone to do.

Alejandro abruptly stood and excused himself. "I will only be a moment. Then we can go inside for some refreshments." Alejandro strode quickly to Diego's side intent on confronting his son with his new discovery.

Diego was still standing in the middle of the plaza, staring into the distance. Alejandro paused a moment, doubt snaking its way into his brain. Alejandro shook his head and resolved himself to tell Diego he knew the truth. A firm hand on his shoulder startled Alejandro and he jumped slightly. He turned to look into the chagrined face of his only son.

"Sorry, Father. I did not mean to startle you." Diego apologized, releasing the grip on Alejandro's arm.

"It is fine Diego. I was just thinking. You have been standing here for some time. Is something troubling you? Please, Diego let me in. I am your father. I can help you."

"I know Father. I am sorry. I…I must do this alone for now. Please, Ignacio will not hesitate to kill you if you interfere. He is a brutal man, Father. "

"That is what I fear Diego. You are amazing with a blade, but you will not kill him. Ignacio will try to kill you and that will be his advantage. You must be careful Diego."

"I will father. I will."

Alejandro did not know how to tell Diego that he had discovered who Zorro was. Diego did not need anything more to worry about, and Alejandro knew his son had not told him his secret for a reason. Alejandro suspected Diego feared for his safety. Or perhaps Zorro's safety. Alejandro would have to be careful not to give away Diego's identity. It would be hard for him now to watch Zorro jump into danger. For Diego's sake, however, he would have to act as though Zorro was no more important to him than he was to anyone else.

"Was there something else, Father?" Diego asked when Alejandro remained standing beside him.

"What. No…I was just thinking. Diego, I know I have not told you this enough over the years, but I am truly proud of you. I have never seen you for who you are and for that I am sorry. Just know that no matter who you have become, I have always been proud of you. I know your mother would be proud too."  
Diego smiled wistfully at the thought of his mother. Elena had left him and Alejandro far too early, but Diego knew she was always with them. He had often wondered what his mother would think of his alter ego. Alejandro's words eased Diego's mind and he felt his body relax. Alejandro noted Diego's fist as it unclenched and hung limp beside his leg. Alejandro decided that now was not the time to tell Diego he had figured out his puzzle. Tomorrow, perhaps, Alejandro decided.

**TBC**


	16. Chapter 16

Laughter reached the two men and they turned to see Carlos, Rafael, Armando, and Fernando standing. The four men moved toward Diego and Alejandro, but Fernando hung back a moment, looking thoughtfully at Diego. There was more to Diego than anyone knew. Fernando suspected Alejandro was realizing that now. Fernando had seen what Alejandro had. Diego and Zorro had merged into one as Diego fought his imaginary foe. It took a while for Fernando to realize what he saw, but like Alejandro, once he had it was blatantly obvious. He too wondered how no one else noticed. He did not think Don Carlos, Don Rafael and Don Armando had yet made the connection, although Fernando suspected even they would in time. _It is far too easy to miss that which is in front of you_, Fernando mused. _Most people never look past what they think they know. _Fernando did not know what to do with his new knowledge. He shrugged his lean shoulders and followed the other three dons who had now caught up with Alejandro and Diego.

Fernando had been mistaken about the other three men. Last night on the ride home, they had discussed the recent events surrounding Diego. Zorro was never mentioned, and perhaps none of them had thought Diego was Zorro, but they had slowly come to realize that Diego was still hiding something. Today, they had discovered Diego's secret. Like Alejandro and Fernando, they had seen Zorro behind Diego's moves. They had watched the masked man countless times and knew his swordplay. None of the men voiced their findings, unsure if the others had discovered the masquerade. Each man resolved to keep quiet. Perhaps tomorrow, after they had time to think everything through, they would divulge their secret too each other. Yet for now, they guarded the secret of Zorro.

Diego was nodding politely when Fernando reached his side. Alejandro turned, "I have invited Carlos, Armando, and Rafael to stay for lunch, but Diego has promised Sergeant Garcia that he would treat him to lunch. Would you care to go into the pueblo again today? We could look at Carlos' horses after we have lunch."

Fernando nodded his assent. "That sounds fine." He looked at Diego and noted the strain in his eyes. _He is tired_, Don Fernando thought. _Everything he has done could be ruined by Ignacio_. Don Carlos made a silent vow that he would help Alejandro watch Diego's back. He had barely spoken to Ignacio, but he sensed a mean spirit in the man. He had no doubt in his mind that Ignacio would kill Diego if he could.

It was Diego's calm voice that broke Fernando's line of thought. "I will tell Maria we are leaving and won't be eating lunch. I am going to find Bernardo to let him know where we are going and then I will meet you at the stables."

Diego left the other men in the plaza and headed into the cool air of the hacienda. He knew where Bernardo was so he set out to find Maria first. He found the long-time servant in the kitchen. Diego let her know that the Dons would be going into the pueblo. After finishing his first task, Diego went to the library. He preferred entering the cave through the library because it offered the most protection. The sala always seemed occupied. Diego felt the cool darkness brush his skin as the secret passage swung open. He hurried down the passage, calling Bernardo's name when he rounded the first bend, passing his desk and his cape and hat that hung on the wall. He found Bernardo cleaning Tornado's stall. The horse whinnied as Diego approached and he walked over to the beautiful black stallion.

"Sorry boy. I have been neglecting you of late. Don't worry. Tonight, Zorro is going to take a ride. I want to find where Ignacio is hiding. He has been here for a better part of a month. I am sure of it. I know he was here when I took the beating." Tornado stamped his hoof and shook his head at the mention of Ignacio. "You feel it too, huh boy. Don't worry my friend. I will take care of everything."

Diego wished he felt the confidence he tried to project to Tornado and Bernardo, who stood listening to Diego. "Bernardo, we are going to the pueblo. I promised to buy Sergeant Garcia lunch. No…I want you to keep an eye on things here. Let me know if any strangers come by." Bernardo made a few hand gestures that Diego easily read. "I will be careful. Do not worry. My father and the other Dons are going with me. I think they had the same idea you did. I will be fine."

Diego turned back to Tornado and gave the horse a quick rub down with a nearby brush. "I must go, my friend. Don't let Bernardo hoard the apples." Diego smiled at the surprised look on Bernardo's face. Bernardo frowned and crossed his arms. Diego laughed and crossed the few steps that separated the two men. He patted Bernardo's shoulder before telling him to be careful and promising him he would do the same.

Diego left the cave the same way he entered. A feeling of dread had slowly begun to settle in his stomach and any thought of food fled Diego's mind. He couldn't shake the sudden feeling that something was about to happen. Shrugging the feeling off, Diego crossed the sala and stepped into the plaza. He could see Alejandro and the others by the gate, Esperanza stood saddled and waiting, her golden coat shining in the sun. With quick strides he walked to Esperanza and mounted swiftly. With a nod of his head, the group of men all turned their mounts toward the pueblo de Los Angeles.

The trip into town was quiet. The men sat huddled in their own thoughts. All save Diego, wondered what to do about the knowledge they held. Alejandro knew he must confront Diego, that he had to tell him how proud he was, yet he could not figure out how_. Sometimes_, he mused, _it_ _is better to simply come out with something rather than tenderfoot around it._ Tonight, when the Dons had left he would talk to Diego. It was long past time he filled the rift that had formed in their relationship. With a small shake of his head and a subtle squaring of his shoulders, Alejandro set his mind to the task ahead of him. It would be hard he knew, but he had never backed down from a challenge.

Fernando had a similar conversation to himself. Only, he was not planning on confronting Diego, but Alejandro. First, he would give Alejandro time to talk to Diego, and then, Fernando would let his friend know he had too discovered Diego's alter ego. After that, he would talk to Diego. When, he was not certain, but he knew Diego had a right to know that he knew his secret.

The other three Dons wondered if they should tell anyone at all. They trusted each other with their life, but was it fair to trust another man's life with each other? And perhaps, they concluded, that is what they would be doing. For every man who knew the face behind the mask, the chance of someone slipping, of saying the wrong thing at the wrong time grew, and they all knew that could easily cost Diego his freedom and his life. Yet if they could figure out the secret, the others could and must have as well. Should they trust each other with this secret? All three twirled the idea in their head for some time, setting it aside only when they reached the pueblo.

Don Diego did not care about what the other men were musing over. Perhaps, it would have been best if he had, for he would have noticed the subtle glances the men threw at him. But Diego was wrapped to tightly in his own thoughts to notice. For his life, he could not figure out how to escape Ignacio's trap unscathed. If he fought Ignacio those who witnessed it, and Ignacio would ensure that there were witnesses, would surely suspect him as Zorro. And if Ignacio told Monastario that he thought he was Zorro, if he had proof that Diego was completely different in Spain, Diego feared he would not last through the duel. Monastario would not hesitate to condemn him. The feeling of dread grew in Diego's chest and he could feel his heart beating a little wildly. He could not help but feel a chain of events were about to be triggered that would change his life forever. For good or bad he did not know, and he did not care to find out.

The men dismounted beside the tavern. It was not quite two but Diego suspected the Sergeant had all ready made it to the tavern. Diego turned to the Dons, his hazel eyes bright in the afternoon sun, "Shall we?" he said indicating the cool tavern with a quick swipe of his blue-coated arm, "I would hate to keep the good Sergeant waiting for his tamales."

The other men nodded and moved toward the dark interior of the tavern. Even the thought of the innocent Sergeant and his great love of tamales could not bring a smile to the Dons' faces. After recent events, the tavern did not seem as welcoming. Still, the older men followed Diego into the tavern. Those gathered around the wooden tables looked up with curious eyes as Diego entered. They eyed him suspiciously, as if they could see the truth behind Ignacio's words if they only looked long enough. Diego ignored the stares as he moved to a large corner table. Much to his surprise, Garcia was not in the tavern.

Don Alejandro looked around the bustling room, his brown eyes searching for Ignacio. Alejandro hoped he could stem any further confrontations between Diego and the dark caballero. Shaking himself from his thoughts, he turned back to Diego and his friends. "It seems something has kept Sergeant Garcia. Certainly nothing of his making. I am sure the good Sergeant would not mind if we ordered for him."

Diego nodded and smiled at his father's suggestion. "I am sure Sergeant Garcia would not care Father…so long as you ordered wine along with the meal."

Alejandro laughed, "Yes, you are right Diego. We mustn't forget the wine." Alejandro was grateful for what Sergeant Garcia had done when Diego was injured. Garcia may not have captured the bandits, but he certainly tried. Alejandro decided that today, Garcia had free reign over the midday meal. If he felt like an extra bottle of wine, then so be it. Alejandro was going to make sure that Sergeant Garcia knew that what he did meant a great deal to the de la Vega's.

Alejandro saw Diego smile and turned to the tavern door. Sergeant Garcia stood silhouetted in the doorway, his large frame nearly blocking out the light. He stopped on the threshold for a moment as his eyes scanned the tavern. When he saw Diego he smiled, his mouth turned up sharply and his eyes crinkled with delight. He paused another moment as he inhaled the aroma of chilies, tomatoes, tortillas, and beef. With a satisfied nodded, he moved his large frame through the tavern, barely missing a Don who had just pushed his chair back from his table. Arriving safely, Garcia greeted the men warmly. "Buenas dias, Señores."

A round of welcomes moved swiftly across the table and Sergeant Garcia pulled up a chair and sat. "What has kept you my friend?" Diego asked bemused, "you have never been late to lunch."

Sergeant Garcia looked around the room before speaking. "It wasn't my idea. Capitán Monastario has been plotting against Zorro again. Why he wastes his time, I will never know. Not while there are other more pleasurable things to do." The sergeant finished his sentence just as the wine appeared from the slim hand of Pilar. Garcia smiled at the pretty senorita as thanks for the wine. He waited a moment until she had departed before he continued his story. First however, he expertly emptied his cup of wine and reached for the bottle Pilar had left. He poured himself another cup when Diego nodded his approval.

"You were saying that Monastario is trying to trap the fox…" Diego asked, hoping the sergeant would give him the details of the plan.

"Sí. He thinks that he can draw Zorro out so that he will have to fight. Monastario seems to think someone can beat Zorro and unmask him. I tried to tell him his plan would not work, but he never listens to me. Just like I assured him that you were not Zorro."

The other Dons stiffened slightly at Garcia's words. Never before had they feared for Zorro. He was a legend to them, more than mortal. But now they knew Zorro was indeed a man, and a man they knew well. Doubt and fear crept into their thoughts. Before Ignacio came into their lives, they were certain Zorro could not be touched, but now…now they knew he bled; now they knew he could die. And it was unsettling.

All the men, including Alejandro, suddenly thought they knew why Diego had never told anyone he was Zorro. These men could no longer act the same around Zorro; they could not watch unflinching as he threw himself into danger. Now they feared for Zorro's safety, and that fear would, without doubt, show on their faces.

Diego was mulling over what the friendly Sergeant was saying and missed the looks on his companions' faces. Alejandro sucked in a quiet breath when he saw the expression on Fernando's face. Had he looked at the other Dons, he would have seen identical expressions. As it was, he stared slightly dumbfounded at Fernando. Alejandro knew that his longtime friend had discovered Diego's well-kept secret as well. Alejandro felt the muscles in his neck relax slightly. At least he had an ally now. He would talk to Fernando as soon as he could. The two men had much to discuss before he confronted Diego.

Alejandro's musings were cut short as he heard Diego's smooth voice. "What is Monastario planning now Sergeant? I hope it is more successful than his last attempts."

"I hope not. I like Zorro even though I chase him when he comes to the pueblo." Sergeant Garcia frowned suddenly, "do you think Zorro takes it personally. I hope he knows there is no chance I will ever catch him."  
Diego patted the arm of his friend, a mysterious smile danced across his lips and his eyes were bright with merriment, "Oh…do not be worried Sergeant. I am certain Zorro does not hold it against you."  
Sergeant Garcia's brown eyes lit up, "You really think so, Diego. I would hate for Zorro to be mad at me."  
"I am certain Sergeant. Now tell us of the Commandante's new scheme." Diego laughed silently, a moment of relief washed over him as Garcia told them Monastario's plan. The Sergeant paused in his telling only to take a bite of the warm tamales Pilar had brought to the table or to take another drink of the cool wine. The men occasionally shook their heads in disbelief—the Commandante, it seemed, would do anything to unearth the legend. Monastario was going to tax farm goods brought to the pueblo market. The injustice, he hoped, would bring Zorro to him. And it would. No matter the threat, Zorro would never sit idle and safe while innocent men suffered. Diego knew that he would indeed ride Tornado tonight. Perhaps Zorro could also uncover something about Ignacio. Diego was tired of waiting on Ignacio's next move. He would no longer be a pawn in Ignacio's dark game of vengeance.

By the time Sergeant Garcia had finished his meal and wine, the afternoon had worn nearly into evening. Sergeant Garcia had left several minutes before with the urging of a young corporal and a long glance at the half-empty wine bottle on the table. Alejandro was the first to stand and move away from the table. "I would still love to get a look at your horses before you take them to the auction," Alejandro said. Diego and Fernando nodded in agreement. The tavern was momentarily filled with the soft screech of the chairs against the dark wooden planks of the floor. The tavern was mostly empty at the odd hour and only a few men sat around a table in one corner. Diego left several coins on the table before leaving.

The men stepped onto the dusty street and started toward their horses. A commotion by the water fountain caught their attentions and they turned toward the noise. "What now?" Alejandro asked as he stepped further into the street.

**TBC**


	17. Chapter 17

Don Armando squinted his dark hazel eyes against the late afternoon sun, trying to peer through the light layer of dust that clung to the air. Angry voices reached his ears and he strained to make out the words. "I do not know. But I think we should probably find out." Armando began walking toward the noise. A group of men and women stood huddled beside the fountain. They parted as the six Dons approached. In the middle of the circle, Ignacio Fuentes stood with his sword drawn. Don Miguel Sanchez, a friend of Diego's, knelt beside Ignacio, blood dripped from a wound to his left arm, making dark circles in the dry sand.

"You are worthless. Get up!" Ignacio yelled as he planted a boot on the Don's shoulder pushing the young man backwards. He hit the ground with a loud thump and laid there a moment, catching the breath that had escaped his lungs on impact.

Alejandro was the first to cry out in outrage, his voice sharp and angry. "That is enough. He was finished. Have you no honor?"

Before Ignacio could answer Diego stepped into the circle, "No, he has no honor. He is no different than his brother, Father." Diego moved to the side of Don Miguel and knelt. "Are you okay my friend?"

Miguel nodded and managed a weak, "Si, I am fine. Help me up." Diego helped the man rise and steadied him as he gathered both his wits and his feet. Miguel swayed for a moment but then shook off Diego's strong arm. "I am all right now."

Alejandro, Fernando, and the others had now joined Diego. Don Carlos gripped Miguel's shoulder, "Let's get you into the tavern." He turned to a young boy in the crowd, "Bring Doctor Hernandez to the tavern, please." The boy scurried down the street to the doctor's office and Carlos turned back to the young, wounded Don.  
Ignoring Ignacio, Don Carlos motioned for Don Rafael and Don Armando to help the man to the inn. "We will be there shortly. I am going to stay with Alejandro and Diego," he whispered to Don Armando as he reached for Miguel's arm.

Don Armando whispered back his reply, "Keep him safe Carlos. I do not trust Ignacio."

Don Carlos turned back to Ignacio. The crowd remained, wondering if another confrontation was about to ensue, but Carlos ignored them as he moved beside Alejandro. Diego now stood before Ignacio, his hazel eyes dark, his posture stiff. Alejandro and Carlos could not make out Diego's words but the look of fury on his face spoke volumes. Alejandro had never seen such emotion on his son's face and it was unsettling. _How he must hate this man_, Alejandro decided.

Diego stepped close beside Ignacio. His voice was low and sharp as he spoke to Ignacio, "I know what you are doing. It will not work. I am not going to confront you publicly—I will not give you the satisfaction." Diego's voice dropped and he whispered calmly, "If you harm anyone else in your twisted scheme to get to me, you will know the true temper of a de la Vega. You can not best me, Ignacio. You never have and you never will."

Diego turned on his heel and left a fuming Ignacio behind. The crowd sighed and slowly began to part as they realized there would be no more excitement today. Alejandro and Carlos fell in step beside Diego as he moved toward the tavern. Don Hernandez was entering the door just as the trio neared the steps.

Miguel was seated at a table, his wounded arm resting against his side; a piece of cloth was tied around the puncture wound. "Pilar, could you please get me some hot water and a few more rags." Pilar moved quickly to kitchen and within minutes she had returned with a basin of steaming water and a small pile of rags. The few men in the tavern had moved toward the Dons when they entered and they now stood to the side, watching as Hernandez tended the wound.  
"What were you doing fighting that man?" Doctor Hernandez asked as he poured a stinging solution onto the wound and began wrapping the arm.

Miguel looked around sheepishly, his eyes turned down toward the table and his right hand tapping nervously against his thigh. "I was trying to defend my honor." He looked at the faces around him, his light brown eyes settling on Diego's, "and Diego's."

"Diego's?" Rafael asked, his hand smoothing his beard as he spoke. Miguel shook his head and winced slightly as Hernandez finished tightening the bandage on his arm.  
"You will heal nicely. Just don't use your arm too much over the next week." Doctor Hernandez returned the small vial to his black bag and sat on the chair next to Miguel. "Go ahead and finish your story," Hernandez urged with a smile.

"He was calling you a coward and a worthless Caballero. He said you cared nothing about the people of this pueblo and would gladly sell them out for the right price. That man said you had done it before in Spain. Most of the people he managed to attract did not believe him. Unfortunately…there are always those who think little of the Dons or anyone with money.

"I called him a coward and told him to take his lies else where. He asked if I wanted to defend your honor like a gentleman. I…I could not refuse, Diego. I know the rumors. And I know what Ignacio said, but I didn't want to take a chance. I thought…I thought I could get him to leave our pueblo and you alone. He is a master with the blade Diego. You must be careful. Even Zorro may not win against him."

The room was silent when Miguel finished his story. Doctor Hernandez cast worried eyes to Diego. He noted the strain on the handsome face and the pinched look in Diego's eyes. What Diego was thinking Hernandez did not know, but he felt himself shiver at the possibility of Diego confronting the cold steel of Ignacio's blade.

"I appreciate what you did, Miguel, but please don't risk yourself on my account. I know what Ignacio is capable of doing. He would have killed you, Miguel."

Don Miguel's face paled at Diego's words. He had never expected the man to kill him. The thought never crossed his mind. He had assumed if he lost, like he had, Ignacio would simply gloat about his victory. Miguel had seen a cold expression on Ignacio's face when he drew blood. _Yes, he would have killed me_, Miguel thought, the idea chilling him.

"Diego is right, Don Miguel. You are truly a brave and honorable man, but Ignacio is not. He seems to care little about life and would have taken yours even in the daylight, surrounded by your friends and neighbors." Alejandro added, placing a firm hand on Miguel's shoulders.

Doctor Hernandez stood and stretched slightly, "Come Miguel. You need to rest. Perhaps Don Armando could help you home. His hacienda is close to yours."

"Si. I will make sure he gets home safely." Don Armando helped Miguel stand and together they left the tavern. Don Rafael stood and followed his friend outside. After the two men helped Miguel gather his horse and mount, Rafael pulled Armando to the side.

"Meet Carlos and I at my hacienda tomorrow morning. Come for breakfast. We have much to discuss." Don Rafael shook Don Armando's hand and the two parted. Don Rafael reentered the tavern. Doctor Hernandez and the other Dons were seated at the table Miguel had just left. The spectators had returned to their table, preparing to leave. Rafael knew that today's events would be spread throughout the pueblo within hours. He laughed quietly and shook his head. He hoped there weren't any more exciting days for a while. Rafael felt too old to have so much excitement in his life. Perhaps they would see an end to Ignacio soon, Rafael hoped as he pulled a chair up to the table.

"Do not blame yourself Diego," Alejandro chided his son. "Miguel chose to fight Ignacio. You can not control everything around you."

Diego sighed and rubbed his eyes with the palm of his tanned hands. "I know, Father. Ignacio knows that as well, and he will use it against me. He wants to challenge me before the pueblo. I disgraced him once and now he wishes to disgrace me. Killing me will not be enough. He wants me to suffer…he wants me to fail."

"What will you do Diego?" Alejandro asked. He wished he had an answer for Diego. He felt like a failure as a father and the thought that there was nothing he could do to help Diego only made the feeling worse. Alejandro had never felt so frustrated. If he could, he would Ignacio and end his son's pain and worry, but the years had caught up to him and he was no longer a fine swordsman.

Don Fernando spoke, "Enough of this for now. We are all tired and the afternoon has left us. Our minds will be clearer in the morning. We can think of options then. For now, let us return to the hacienda and relax."

Doctor Hernandez stood and nodded his head vigorously. "I think that is a wonderful idea. You all look exhausted. Go home and rest. Nothing will happen tonight." Hernandez moved toward the door when the others stood. Alejandro dropped a coin on the table and followed the tall figure of his son. The early evening sun poured into the tavern and Alejandro blinked against its brightness. Alejandro was glad they were leaving. The tavern would soon fill and he was in no mood for noise and laughter.

Hernandez reached out a hand and lightly grasped Diego's jacket. "Can I speak to you a moment Diego?" Diego nodded and moved to the side to let his father pass. "It will only take a moment."

When the others had left and the door slid shut, Hernandez looked around the tavern. Pilar was no where to be seen, probably in the kitchen preparing the evening meal, leaving the tavern empty. "What will you do Diego? If you fight Ignacio, Monastario will know you are Zorro. He will see it."  
Diego laughed, the sound caught the doctor by surprise, "He already thinks I am Zorro. He simply can not prove it yet. Ignacio has not told him what he knows, but I have little doubt he will soon."

"You must tell your father, Diego. He deserves to know. Don't let him find out because you are suddenly in prison."

Diego knew the doctor was right. Alejandro deserved to know that he was Zorro. He did not want his father to find out because something happened to him. "I know you are right. But it is not easy to tell him that he has been lied to all these years. I have tried to tell him. Every time I saw how disappointed he was in me I wanted to tell him, but something held me back."

"Do not wait Diego. He may all ready know. He is a very smart man and he has seen the scars, Diego. He remembers what you were like before you went to Spain."  
Diego sighed heavily. He had given his father one more piece of the puzzle, "He has also seen me sword fight." Perhaps, Diego realized, his father may have figured out the man behind the mask. He had not been able to talk to his father alone and Diego knew from years of experience that Alejandro was good at hiding what he was really thinking. With a firm shake of his head, Diego sealed his decision. "I will talk to him tonight."

"Good, Diego. Let me know if I can do anything. We all owe you more than we could ever repay. Never forget that."

"I won't Doctor." Diego said as he opened the door. The others were saddled and waiting for Diego. Diego swung atop Esperanza and gently nudged her into a walk. Don Carlos bid the men goodnight as he turned off the main road and headed toward his hacienda. He had to take care of some ranch business before he could meet Don Rafael and Don Armando in the morning. Alejandro and Diego rode home in silence, each wrapped up in their own thoughts, and each fearing what may come.

**ZZZ**

Ignacio found Monastario in the tavern slowly sipping a glass of wine, his empty plate cast aside and the wine bottle barely empty. Without asking permission, Ignacio pulled out a chair and sat. He waved toward the pretty serving girl, instructing her to bring him a glass. When Pilar returned, he poured himself a glass of wine. Ignacio studied Monastario's annoyed expression for a moment before speaking. "The last time we met, I told you I may have a proposition you would be interested in."

Monastario narrowed his eyes at the man across from him. He did not particularly like this Don, and he would be glad to see him leave. Still, Monastario nodded his head and waited for the man to finish.

"What if I told you I know who Zorro is?" Ignacio smiled, but the emotion did not reach his dark, calculating eyes.

Monastario shivered slightly at the look in Ignacio's eyes. For a moment, Monastario wondered if the man was slightly mad, but he shook off the feeling and asked, "Do you?"

"Yes. But I will need your help to capture him. You can take the credit, but I get to deal with the Fox."

Monastario thought for a moment. He could take the credit, yet he wouldn't get his hands dirty…well, too dirty. But did he want to work with Ignacio. Something about the man made the Commandante uneasy. Yet he could not pass up a chance to capture Zorro. "What do you have in mind?"

**TBC**

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****A/N: I am co-coordinating a banquet that is fast approaching, so the next chapter update may be in a couple of weeks, but no longer than that. Thanks for all those who are reading my story, especially those who have reviewed. The plot should start to move along quicker really soon.**


	18. Chapter 18

The three Dons dismounted silently and handed their reigns to a vaquero, thanking the young man before they headed into the hacienda. Diego turned immediately toward the stairs, his father and Don Fernando headed into the sala. Neither Diego nor Alejandro was yet ready for the conversation they knew they would share. Instead, Diego sought out Bernardo and the reassurance of his friend. Diego found Bernardo in the cave, combing Tornado's black coat. The horse whinnied as Diego approached and Bernardo turned, his welcoming smile fading as he saw the expression on Diego's handsome features. Diego's usually jovial attitude was instead somber and quiet, his lips turned in an unnatural frown, and his hazel eyes seemed weary to Bernardo.

Diego managed a half smile for his friend before turning to pat his trusted mount. "It has been a long time, hasn't it my friend. In some ways it has been a relief that Zorro has not been needed, yet his exploits would take my mind off of Ignacio. And you," he said, rubbing the nose of Tornado, "have probably grown bored. Tomorrow, you will be needed, I think. Monastario is planning something," Diego said turning his head to look at Bernardo.

Bernardo shook his head and shrugged. Monastario was always up to something and it was rarely, if ever, beneficial to the pueblo or Zorro. Bernardo nodded his head for Diego to finish.

Diego sighed and continued to rub Tornado's neck, "He is going to start taxing all farm goods brought to the pueblo. The farmers can not afford to pay such a tax, and Monastario knows this will draw Zorro out. I am not sure what the actual trap is, but it is something he seems to think will surely work. I should ride tonight, but I am too tired and I fear I would not be able to escape if he was ready for me. And I fear I have other matters to take care of. Tomorrow night or perhaps the next day, Zorro will ride." Diego sighed again; his shoulders heaved under the strain and rubbed his tired eyes. "Ignacio will move soon, too. I am sure of it. I just don't know what his next move will be."

Bernardo signed that he would help, that Don Alejandro would help if he let him. While the Dons were gone, Bernardo had sat in the cave trying to figure out how to help Diego. Alone, he knew he could not do it. Ignacio was a cunning, deceitful man and Bernardo knew he had no hope of outmaneuvering him. Yet the Dons, especially Alejandro, were educated men, some of them ex-military officers. Don Fernando, Bernardo knew, would help Diego without a second thought, and Bernardo would trust the man with Diego's secret. Besides, he mused, he probably all ready suspected Diego was Zorro after the fencing expedition Diego put on. Don Carlos, Armando, and Rafael would also make excellent allies, and like Fernando, Bernardo trusted them. They were all good men who treated their workers with respect and believed in Zorro's outings. Eventually, they too would likely connect Diego to Zorro, so Bernardo felt it was worth the risk to tell them. He would do anything to save Diego's life even if it meant telling a few people the identity of Zorro.

"I know Bernardo. My father wants to help and he is frustrated because he doesn't know how." Diego stilled his hand and turned to Bernardo. He looked at his longtime friend for a moment before speaking again, "I am going to tell him today Bernardo."

Bernardo did not need to ask Diego what he meant. As a reflex, Bernardo started to protest, but stopped himself almost immediately. Only moments before he had come to the conclusion that Diego should tell not only Alejandro, but also Fernando and the other Dons. He smiled at his natural instinct for a moment, before his face became serious. Bernardo met the questioning gaze of the younger man and he simply nodded. Diego let out a long, slow breath. He reached out a hand and tightly squeezed Bernardo's shoulder as he passed his friend and servant. Bernardo watched as he ascended the stairs and disappeared in the gloom of the tunnel. Bernardo sat heavily onto the straw laden floor and pressed his hands to his face. He was beginning to get a headache, and not for the first time, he prayed that Diego would survive this latest trial.

Alejandro sat on the divan, his head bowed over his wine glass. Fernando had remained quiet, unsure of how to broach the subject with his friend. Long minutes stretched by until Fernando stood, his lean body moving swiftly across the floor as he paced. Alejandro looked up, "Try not to wear down my rug," Alejandro half-heartedly jested.

Fernando stopped, his stride halted quickly, and he brought a hand up, swiping a stray lock of brown hair from his face. "Alejandro, I…this is harder than I imagined," Fernando confessed.

"What is wrong, Fernando?"

"I know Alejandro. I know the truth…the truth you have only recently discovered yourself." Fernando whispered, his voice barely reaching the grey-haired Don.

For a moment, Alejandro's face remained blank. Slowly, his features contorted as recognition sank in, and his brown eyes turned darker, his brow knitted in concentration. That emotion faded quickly, to be replaced by a look of pure relief. Alejandro welcomed the thought of an ally, especially that of his trusted friend. He knew Fernando would do whatever he could to keep Diego safe. Fernando saw the muscles in his friend's body relax.

"How has he kept this from me for so long? I have been a fool for all these years. I have not known my son since his return from Spain. Why didn't he trust me? I would have helped him." Alejandro's voice was deep, his words etched in grief and confusion, emotions the man was not quite able to deal with.

"It does not matter. Why or how he kept his secret are things better left for another time. Right now, Diego needs us. You should tell him, Alejandro. He needs allies now more than ever."

Alejandro knew Fernando was right. He had planned on talking to Diego all ready, but that did not make the task an easier. What would he say to his son? _How do you tell your son that you have failed him?_ The thought that Fernando would be there to support him was a small comfort to Alejandro, but his mind was still occupied with doubt and worry. _Would Diego accept the fact that both Alejandro and Fernando knew the secret he had so desperately kept hidden, even at the cost of his own pride and self?_

Alejandro's thoughts scattered as footsteps echoed on the tiled floor. He looked up to see the strained face of his only son enter the room. Diego looked at his father and willed his emotions to still and remain calm. Diego took comfort in the fact that his father could finally and truly be proud of his son and that the lies could end. Diego walked slowly into the sala and stood before his father. Fernando stood to leave but Diego beckoned him to stay with a wave of his hand. Fernando took a seat beside Alejandro as Diego remained standing.

"Father." Diego began, his mind faltering on his next words. "You know that I have never meant to hurt you and that I have always tried to be the son you wanted, the son you would be proud to have." Alejandro began to protest but Diego silenced him, "Please…let me finish. When I returned from Spain at your request, you expected a fighter, a spirited young man who could wield a sword of justice to defend the pueblo and its people. You expected the son that left, except perhaps better. Instead, you found your son a scholar, more interested in the arts and science, then weaponry or fighting.

"I never meant to deceive you, but it was the only plan I could come up with. To openly defy the Commandante and Spanish rule would have gained us nothing. You saw that yourself. On my way here I heard the rumors of a corrupt government more worried about filling its own pockets with gold, than helping the pueblo. In order to fight this injustice, I donned a mask." Diego met the wide eyes of his father, "I became the fox."

Alejandro and Fernando, their eyes large in the dim light, stared at Diego. It was one thing to _think _you knew who Zorro was and another to hear your suspicions confirmed. Alejandro opened his mouth to reply, to let his son know he didn't blame him for his deceit, but no words emerged.

Diego looked hurt for a brief second, the emotion crossing his face too quickly for the stunned men to notice. He took their silence as a form of disappointment or perhaps anger. "I didn't want to deceive you Father, nor you Fernando. I tried to tell you several times, but I simply couldn't. I lied to you both for some time now. I am sorry. I saw no other way though. And now…now it could all end tomorrow. I have been a fool to think this charade could last, let alone succeed."

Fernando and Alejandro seemed to find their voice at the same time, "Do not say that my son," Alejandro said, his voice muted by Fernando's "You are wrong, Diego."

Alejandro stood and grasped Diego's broad shoulders with shaky hands. "Mi hijo, I have always been proud of you. I never should have tried to change you. I should have seen the strength you had. And I do not blame you for lying to me…to us. You did what you thought was right. That is all I have ever asked of you. I should have seen it Diego. I should have known. If anyone should be sorry, it is me. I was blind and only saw who you were today when you fenced. I think a part of me may have known something was not as it seemed, but I did a good job of ignoring it."

Before Diego could reply Fernando spoke, "When I saw you fence, I could not believe I had missed it for all this time. I know I do not live here, but I have seen Zorro enough to know his movements, his wit and humour. I should have recognized them in you Diego, but you played your part well." Fernando laughed slightly, "Perhaps you should have been an actor Diego. Very few could play the two roles you have created. They are so different it is still hard to connect them."

Diego stood before his father, his mind stunned at the revelation that they knew. A chilling thought sunk into Diego's mind. If they had figured it out, who else had? What about Don Carlos and the others? Surely they had put the pieces together. Yesterday, Bernardo was the only one to share his secret. No, he corrected, Doctor Hernandez knew. But still, to go from two people knowing your deepest secret to suddenly seven people was quite sobering.

Diego was brought back to awareness by his father's quiet voice, "What?"

"I asked Diego, how long Bernardo has known. And how long has he been able to hear?"

Fernando's eyes widen further as he looked at the two de la Vegas. Diego took a step back, the question caught him off guard and he felt unbalanced. He took a deep breath to calm his nerves and answered. "Since the beginning. How did you know?"

Alejandro smiled, relieving the tension in the room. "When you were still in bed after the beating, I heard you talking to someone in your room. I returned to my room and saw Bernardo leave. I thought it strange but gave it little consideration. I had other things on my mind. But when I realized you were Zorro, I remembered what I had seen. I always wondered how Zorro knew when things were about to happen. I suspect people pay little attention to Bernardo when they talk. Why worry about a deaf servant?"

Diego smiled in return, "He has been a faithful friend, servant, and confidant since Spain. Without him, I never would have lasted as Zorro. He has guarded my back countless times, made excuses for me, and healed my wounds. He takes care of Tornado and the cave."

Alejandro was relieved to know that Bernardo was indeed there for Diego when he donned his mask and cape. It was a small comfort to know his son did not carry his burden alone since his return home. Alejandro's smile grew. Oh, how he wanted to meet Tornado. "I would like to see the lair of Zorro."

Diego nodded and motioned for the men to follow. He led them into the library and stopped, enjoying the puzzled looks on the older Dons' faces. Diego pressed the lever and watched as the bookshelf swung open, revealing a cool tunnel. Alejandro and Fernando gasped as the wall shifted. Alejandro looked at Diego, his brown eyes almost black, and Diego nodded, his long arm sweeping forward as an invitation for the men to enter. Alejandro and Fernando stepped quickly into the cave and moved swiftly down the corridor. A desk was the first thing they saw and then a peg with a black cape swinging gently from it. Alejandro gently touched a book that sat on the desk corner. The dark wood of the desk flickered with the light of a low burning lamp.

Diego stood beside his cloak, his hand reaching out to touch the silken material. His mask sat haphazardly on the edge of the desk and Alejandro picked it up, his fingers running along the material. He held the cloth up and toward Diego, picturing his son, now so easily, as Zorro. Fernando had found one of Diego's experiments and studied the herb mixture with open curiosity. "What is it?"

"A sleeping tea. An Indian I helped told me that it would put anyone to sleep for a few hours. I never finished mixing the ingredients. I suppose I became sidetracked."

A whinny echoed through the stone chamber and Alejandro looked up. Without saying anything all three men moved further into the cave. Fernando and Alejandro stopped when they rounded a small bend and the tunnel opened into a large cavern. Bernardo was still in the cave and he looked up as the men entered. Tornado didn't seem to care who entered, he was happily munching a bucket of oats.

"Zorro has been under my nose and still I never guessed. I suppose that is how you appeared and disappeared so suddenly." Alejandro said as he crossed the chamber to stand beside Tornado's stall. "May I?" When Diego nodded, Alejandro reached a tentative hand to Tornado's forehead and when the horse made no move against him he gently stroked the horses face.

"Now that we know you are Zorro, we can help you. There must be something we can do to stop Ignacio and Monastario." Fernando spoke, his voice unnaturally loud in the cave.

Diego sighed, "I do not know what we can do. I can not guess Ignacio's next move. He is an unpredictable and ruthless man."

Alejandro turned from Tornado. "We will think of something. Ignacio will not do anything tonight. Tomorrow, we can figure out what to do. Now, I am hungry and I think I would like to talk to Diego alone for a moment. Perhaps you and Bernardo could see if supper is almost ready. I am sure you would like to wash up first. We will join you shortly."

Without another word, Fernando turned and re-entered the tunnel. Bernardo caught up with the Don and stepped in front of him. When they reached the door, Bernardo pressed his ear to the wood and exaggerated the motion of listening. Fernando nodded in understanding. The last thing he wanted to do was open the secret passageway when a servant was in the library. Fernando and Bernardo entered the library quietly. Fernando headed to his room to wash before dinner. He took his time, knowing that his friend would not be quick.

Alejandro glanced around the cave before sitting on a low bench. "What are you going to do Diego?"

"I do not know Father. If I make the wrong move, I will fall into Ignacio's trap. Monastario is planning on capturing Zorro with his latest outrage against the peons. I am certain Ignacio will take advantage of Monastario's plan, I just don't know how. I have to go tomorrow. I can not let the Commandante tax the farmers. They can not afford to lose any money."  
"There must be another way, Diego. He will be waiting for you. There must be something we can do, some way to find out what Ignacio and Monastario are truly planning. I can not lose you Diego. I think I know why you never told me. Every time Zorro is needed, I will fear for your safety. While I never truly believed it, a part of me always felt Zorro was immortal and could not be hurt. But you are not a legend Diego. And men die. Please, be careful. I have just found you, Diego, and I am looking forward to seeing who you really are."  
"I know Father. I will be careful. Come, let us eat. Tonight or tomorrow we will discuss what to do. I will send Bernardo into town tomorrow. He can find out what is going on and we can plan from there."

Alejandro nodded and the two men entered the library silently. Neither man knew what to do. For the first time, Alejandro wished his son was truly a scholar and not a fighter. He had always loved Diego, and right now, he would settle for a poet rather than a warrior. However, Alejandro could no longer picture Diego as a simple scholar, a pacifist who avoided conflict. He was truly a de la Vega, yet Alejandro was almost saddened at the revelation. The men entered the dining hall silently. Fernando was waiting for them, but he said nothing. Instead the men ate in silence, each trying to come up with a way to defeat both Ignacio and Monastario and to keep the identity of Zorro safe.

**TBC**


	19. Chapter 19

The evening hours were just beginning to fade into night when Don Carlos had finished his tasks and sat with a cool glass of wine on a small wooden bench, watching the sun creep below his orchard. He let his mind wander for a moment to images of his son and daughter, now grown with children of their own, and his sweet wife, Anita, dark hair framing her brown eyes as she moved gracefully through the hacienda. Carlos sipped his wine as the air grew chill with the setting of the sun, and found it simple not think of what he had come to know and what he must decide.

It was the sound of distant coyotes that brought him from his sweet thoughts and to the burden he now carried. Don Carlos considered himself an honorable and wise man, and it was these two qualities that now warred within him. To tell the others would break an unspoken code of secrecy, for Diego had long kept his secret hidden, and Don Carlos knew the young Don would not want anyone else to know. Yet, his wisdom urged him to take action, to plan in Diego's absence and to tell the others what he knew.

The sky had grown dark before Carlos stood and stretched his muscles, his back creaking slightly. The wine glass was empty and the Don peered into the goblet, drops of red liquid clung to the surface and Carlos shivered. Perhaps, he mused as he entered the hacienda, white wine would have set better with his nerves. Casting one last look at the black sky, Carlos closed the wooden door and headed to his room. Tomorrow would come early, and the Don knew he must rise at dawn. He would make his choice then, he decided. Honor or wisdom? He silently prayed that the morning would bring him an answer as he slipped beneath the covers, his eyes closing against the weariness he felt.

**ZZZ**

Don Rafael had left the pueblo de Los Angeles several hours after the other Dons. He had spoken with the vaqueros in the tavern and the pueblo, as well as the priest at the monastery, gathering information on Ignacio and Monastario's latest scheme. What he discovered did not bode well for Zorro. Monastario was indeed setting a trap fort he Fox, just as the large sergeant had said. What disturbed Rafael was the fact that Ignacio had all ready spoken to Monastario. Were they in the plan together? Was Ignacio going to confront Zorro when he entered the pueblo? Don Rafael knew Zorro could not turn down a direct challenge. It was not in the man's nature…it wasn't in Diego'snature, he thought with a sudden pang of surprise.

He had not seen Ignacio fight, but he knew Don Miguel was an excellent swordsman and a devoted believer in Zorro. If he thought that Zorro could lose against Ignacio, then there was a good chance he could. A few days ago, Rafael would have dismissed Miguel's warning. Zorro was after all, a legend. The Fox had never been defeated and Rafael would have been secure in that fact, assuming Zorro would win easily against Ignacio. But now, the Don felt uncertainty and doubt creep into his thoughts. If Zorro lost, it would be Diego, the son of a prominent Caballero and a friend of Rafael's, who would suffer the defeat.

Shaking his head as he continued home in the growing dark, Rafael knew that he must tell his friends more than just the news he had discovered in the pueblo. In order to keep Zorro's secret safe, he must share it. Tomorrow, he would tell the other two Dons everything he knew. A slight feeling of guilt washed over Rafael but he ignored it, knowing in his heart that he was making the right decision. The sun had set before Rafael returned home. He tossed his reigns to a nearby vaquero and strode into the house, shutting out his lagging doubts and the chill of the night air.

**ZZZ**

Don Armando had ridden slowly with Miguel, their horses walking the distance home. At first no one spoke, the only sound was the rustling of trees and the methodical thudding of their mounts' hooves. It was Miguel who broke the heavy silence. "What is Diego going to do?"

Armando turned his head to look at the young man, "I do not know. But whatever comes, we will be there for him. He will not fight Ignacio alone."

Miguel nodded, "No he will not fight alone." Miguel grew silent for a moment, his dark brown eyes large, from pain or worry Armando did not know. "But can he win?"

Armando did not know. Could Diego defeat Ignacio? The man was a ruthless individual who cared nothing about who he injured or killed. He would not be fighting Diego simply for the honor of winning. He was going to try to kill Diego. Diego had killed once, but could he do it again? Armando did not think so, and it was this thought that brought doubt to his mind. Men fight differently when they intend to kill the other duelist. They are vicious and quick with the blade. Would Diego's hesitation in trying not to kill Ignacio, give the man an opening to strike? Reluctantly, Armando answered the young Don's question, "I don't know."

Miguel's face fell at the answer. "I do not know either." The rest of the trip was quiet. Armando helped Miguel dismount and when a young servant had taken the man inside Armando turned his horse toward home, his dark thoughts still with him even as he reached the comfort of his hacienda. Tomorrow, he would talk to Rafael and Carlos. Tomorrow, he would reveal Zorro's secret. As he sat behind a strong oak desk, a ledger open in front of him, he prayed that he had come to the right decision and that he would not live to regret his choice.

**ZZZ**

Ignacio Fuentes sat on his cot, his sword perched on his lap and his head tilted back to lean on the wall. Ignacio's eyes were closed as his long fingers stroked the blade of his sword. A strange half-grin made his face look dark and dangerous in the dim light of the shack. _I will not fail_, he thought as his mind conjured images of Diego defeated and humiliated in front of those who adored and loved him. Ignacio did not care what Monastario did after he killed Diego.

Ignacio smiled, his lips curled over his teeth as he thought of Miguel. The young fool thought he could defeat him. Ignacio was indeed surprised at the young man's skill, but Miguel was not in his or Diego's league. For a moment, Ignacio wondered what had inspired the man to challenge him. From the beginning he must have known he was defeated, yet he stepped unhesitatingly in front of Ignacio and demanded he leave the pueblo. _A fool_, Ignacio thought. There was no strength in loyalty. It only made you weak. That would be Diego's downfall…loyalty to his friends. Tomorrow, Zorro would be tested. And Ignacio was sure he would fail. He continued to stroke the steel of his rapier, memories of his brother's death fueling his hatred once more. Yes, he thought, tomorrow Diego would die by his hand. And the next day, he would start his journey to his beloved home in Spain.

**ZZZ**

Alejandro paced the sala floor, his boot heels clicking on the hardwood. Fernando sat on a wooden chair, his hands resting on his knees, his eyes following the path of Alejandro's boots. Diego stood by the window, gazing out across the plaza. Bernardo sat in the corner, his mind to preoccupied with his own doubts and worries to notice Alejandro's pacing. The sun had set hours earlier and the candles flickered unevenly across the floor and walls. "I must ride tomorrow," Diego's voice startled the three other men in the room and Alejandro stopped his pacing to look at his son.

"It is a trap Diego. You know that." Alejandro said his voice tight with worry.

Diego turned from the window, his eyes dark in the shadows of the room, "I know Father. But I must take the chance. Sooner or later I must face Ignacio and Monastario. There is no way around that now."  
"Yes, Diego. But don't walk into a trap. Choose your own time to fight them." Alejandro stepped toward Diego and placed a hand on his son's shoulder. "Don't play Ignacio's game."

"If I don't go tomorrow, Monastario will have won. I can not let him tax the peons unjustly, Father. I can not and will not. This is why I created Zorro. I will not let Ignacio stop me from doing the right thing or else he will have won."

"I know Diego. I know." Alejandro shook his head and sighed, his shoulders slumping with the motion. "But let Bernardo go in the morning. Let him be your eyes and ears. Perhaps he can uncover Monastario and Ignacio's plan."

Bernardo stood at his name and crossed the space between him and Diego quickly. Bernardo nodded vigorously, agreeing with Alejandro's decision. Diego closed his eyes for a moment, "Okay. Bernardo, tomorrow morning you can ride to the pueblo and find out what you can. But be careful. When you return we will form a plan and then Zorro will ride."

The group of men grew silent once more. Doubts and fears flickered across their minds. Tomorrow could be the last time Zorro rode. All the men knew that Ignacio and Monastario were cunning men and now it seemed they had joined forces against Zorro. Slowly, with only their dreadful thoughts as companions, the men headed to their rooms. Sleep was a long time coming for each, and when they had finally found peace enough to sleep, their dreams were haunted with their doubts.

**ZZZ**

Don Alejandro stirred in his bed and opened his eyes. Something had awakened him, but he did not know what. He laid in bed listening to the sounds of the night and the low creaking of the house. Alejandro had just closed his eyes when he heard the muffled groans. He quickly pulled on his robe and tied it closed. The dark maroon material caught the light and the shadows danced in the folds of the material. Alejandro stepped into the hall and listened once again for the noise. The sound was faint, but Alejandro knew they were coming from his son's room. He quickly walked to his son's door and knocked. After hearing no reply, Alejandro pushed Diego's door open.

The room was dark. Except for the small amount of light from the sliver of moon, the room went unlit. Still, Alejandro could see his son's tall frame jerking under the covers. He made his way to the side of Diego's bed and felt his son's forehead. He was relieved to see that there was no fever. Diego continued to toss and turn, his head rolled to the side and Alejandro could see that Diego was muttering something.

Alejandro leaned close, putting his face mere inches from his son's. At first, Alejandro could not make out what his son was saying. His words were too soft, but as Alejandro listened he realized Diego was repeating one phrase over and over. Alejandro felt his heart lurch at the distress in his son's words. Alejandro's thoughts were disrupted by a sudden yell from Diego, "NO! Stop, it was my fault. Don't hurt my father. Take me…."

Alejandro jumped back a step at the unexpected noise. He waited to see if Diego was going to say anything else. When he didn't Alejandro felt himself relax. However, at the look of his son's tortured expression, Alejandro's concern returned tenfold. "Diego, my son, wake up. You are having a nightmare. Please, you must wake up Diego," Alejandro half pleaded as he shook his son's tense body.

Diego slowly started to relax when he heard his father's voice. He cautiously opened his eyes to see the worried face of Don Alejandro. "Father?" Diego questioned, wondering why his father would be waking him at such an hour. Diego never considered the nightmare, though fresh in his mind, as the cause of his father's late night visit.

"You were having a nightmare, mi hijo." Alejandro reached over and placed a hand on Diego's arm, "What were you dreaming Diego?"

Diego shook his head to clear it of the last fading images of his dream. He couldn't tell his father that he dreamt Capitán Monastario and Ignacio were using Alejandro to get to him. He couldn't put that burden on his father's all ready heavy shoulders. Instead he simply told his father he couldn't remember. "I don't know what the dream was about," Diego whispered.

Alejandro smiled at his son and gently squeezed his arm. "It was only a dream, mí hijo. Just rest." Despite recent events, Alejandro smiled. For a moment he was lost in a different time, as a young Diego, his eyes wide with fear, plunged through the oak doors of Alejandro's study. Alejandro had smoothed Diego's hair and had told him everything would be okay, that it was a nightmare and the morning would bring much happier times. And Diego had believed him. He had nodded his dark hair, took a deep breath, and returned to his room with Alejandro following him. Alejandro had tucked his son in and kept watch until Diego had fallen asleep.

Alejandro's smile faded as he returned to the present. It was not so easy anymore. Diego had turned to him for everything after Elena had died and now…now Diego seemed to turn away from him. Yet, Alejandro felt that things would change. Now he knew Diego's secret and Diego would have no reason to hide and lie to him. Alejandro's smile returned, although a shadow of its former self. As he did when Diego was young, Alejandro decided he would stay until his son fell back to sleep. "I am going to sleep in here the rest of the night."

Diego shook his head, "No, Father. You need to rest. I will be fine. Please, go to your own room and sleep."

Alejandro knew he should stay with Diego, but he agreed to go to his own room. Before leaving he felt Diego's forehead again and pushed aside a strand of dark hair. "I will see you in the morning." Alejandro left his son's room and sat on his bed. He took off his robe and lay on his bed listening to any sound that Diego was again dreaming. Alejandro tried not to concentrate on recent events, but it was still a long time before he fell back to sleep.

**TBC**


	20. Chapter 20

Don Carlos met Don Armando at the edge of Don Rafael's property. The two men nodded in greeting and continued to their friend's hacienda. Rafael greeted the two Dons at the door and ushered them in. "Come, breakfast is ready. Carlita has made her famous sweet bread."

The men looked at each other across the table as Carlita placed a loaf of sweet bread on the table and a platter of fruit and cheese. Even after the cook had left, the men remained silent. After a moment, Rafael rose and peered down the hall. He quietly shut the door and returned to his seat. "I think we have a lot to discuss and I would prefer that no one outside this room hears what is said." The other men nodded in agreement. Don Rafael picked up a slice of bread and placed it on his plate, along with some grapes and a thick slice of cheese. The others followed suite and the room was again quiet as the men ate.

"Before we say anything, I think it is important that we all agree that what is said here, shall stay here." Don Armando advised.

"Sí, I agree." Don Carlos answered and Don Rafael echoed his statement.

"Do you know who Zorro is?" Armando asked, catching Carlos and Rafael by surprise. The two dons looked at each other and Don Armando realized that they did. That knowledge lifted a weight from his chest he had not realized was there. He could see that both Armando and Carlos were also relieved of the burden and that it too had been weighing heavily on their minds. "Diego will need our help. Capitán Monastario has been after Zorro since he first appeared. Now, with Ignacio promising him the chance, he has grown overly eager. Today, he will tax the peons on all the goods they have brought into the pueblo, no matter the reason. Zorro will face him and Monastario will spring his trap. He has been talking to Ignacio and I have no doubt that impudent scoundrel has told him he believes Zorro is Diego."  
Don Carlos spoke next, "Monastario has all ready accused Diego of being Zorro. He will need little proof to arrest Diego again. Even if he was wrong, I doubt he will let Diego go free. He has put too much effort in capturing Zorro. If Zorro fights Ignacio and Diego is not there he will see that as proof that Diego is Zorro. If Diego shows up and there is no Zorro…well the same thing happens. What we need are two Zorros."

Rafael's features brightened. "Why not have two Zorros? Carlos, your nephew is the same age as Diego and they are both of similar size. He is an excellent horseman and swordsman. Perhaps…perhaps we can use him to draw Monastario and the others away. That would leave Ignacio for Diego to handle without Zorro around. And if Monastario sees Zorro riding off with his men chasing after him, then he would be forced to admit that Diego is not Zorro."

Don Carlos thought over the solution for a moment. "Sí," he agreed, "it may very well work. I am sure Ramiro will help. On our way to Alejandro's we shall ask him. If he is willing, we will talk to Alejandro and Diego about it."

"What if he isn't willing to take the risk. I will not pressure him into doing something potentially dangerous." Rafael stated.

"Then we pray Alejandro and the others have come up with something." Carlos answered

"And if they haven't…"Armando asked, not finishing his sentence. The others said nothing as they finished breakfast. The night chill had just begun to lift when they three dons mounted and headed West toward Don Ramiro's hacienda.

**ZZZ**

The call of a bird woke Alejandro and he peered at the light seeping in through his window. It was still early and the sun had barely risen. Slipping into his robe and slippers, he padded across the floor and down the stairs. He found Diego sitting in the library talking quietly to Bernardo. The two men did not seem to notice him as he entered his slippers light on the wooden floor. "Be careful Bernardo. Avoid Ignacio if you can. He is dangerous and would not hesitate to use you against me."  
Bernardo nodded in agreement and stood. He started when he saw Alejandro at the door. He placed a hand over his heart and opened his eyes wide as an exaggerated image of him frightened. "Sorry Bernardo," Alejandro apologized. Bernardo shrugged it was okay and turned to leave. Alejandro stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. "Be careful Bernardo." Bernardo nodded and left.

Diego stood. He stretched his tall frame before stepping away from the chair. "Fernando will be up soon. When Bernardo returns we will make our plans. I have a feeling Don Carlos, Rafael, and Armando will be stopping by after breakfast." Diego paused for a moment and he smiled. "It is nice to have such friends, is it not Father."  
"Sí, mí hijo. It is always good to have friends." Without another word the two men left the library. Alejandro returned to his room to change and freshen up. He met Fernando as he was leaving his room and the two walked to the breakfast table. Diego was all ready seated when the older men entered. Breakfast was eaten quickly and quietly, and when it was finished the three men stood and walked out to the plaza. They were still seated on the benches when Don Carlos arrived. Alejandro was not surprised to see Rafael and Armando dismount beside him.

Alejandro stood and walked across the plaza to greet the four men. He felt Diego and Fernando behind him as he reached the gate. "Buenos dias," Alejandro greeted. A round of good mornings echoed throughout the group. "Would you like to come inside?" Alejandro asked.

"It is a beautiful day. Perhaps we could sit in the garden." Don Carlos suggested. The Dons moved to the gardens and sat around a large table tucked in the corner. The de la Vega garden was always lovely, and this year had been no different. Carlos admired a pale yellow rose before he took his seat. Carlos, Rafael, and Armando had discussed how to handle the situation during the ride here. They were glad that Ramiro readily agreed to help Diego. Now that they had a decisive plan of action, they felt comfortable enough to tell Diego they knew he was Zorro.

Don Carlos peered around the garden and when he saw it was empty he began to speak. He and his two friends had decided on a direct approach. They had discussed the fact that Alejandro and Fernando may not have known, but dismissed the notion. If they had figured it out surely the other two had. And if they hadn't…well, they would worry about that later. "Diego, we know that you are Zorro," Don Carlos whispered, fear of eavesdroppers keeping his voice low.

Diego did not look surprised at the news. Don Fernando and Alejandro seemed more surprised at the bluntness of the remark than at was actually said. Armando picked up the conversation, "We have been discussing how to help you, Diego. If you fight Ignacio as Zorro, Monastario will assume it is you, if you fight as Diego he will decide that Zorro could not come because he was all ready fighting Ignacio."

Armando paused and Rafael spoke. He explained their plan of using Ramiro as a deception so that Monastario would see both Zorro and Diego at the same time. After Ramiro leads Monastario and his men on a chase through the hills, Diego could face Ignacio and finally rid the pueblo of the cold-blooded man. Even if Monastario stays to watch Diego's fight, he could not deny that Zorro was in the pueblo and he would have no reason to arrest Diego.

"How did you explain your plan to Ramiro without telling him Diego is Zorro?" Fernando asked.

Don Carlos smiled, "I simply told him that it was to thwart Ignacio's plan to falsely incriminate Diego as Zorro. I led him to believe that Zorro could not be here because he was chasing some bandits to the south and would not return for a few days and by then it could be too late. No one has seen Zorro for a while, so it was believable and Ramiro did not seem to doubt my word. He agreed that Ignacio would say anything to get even with Diego, even lying outright to the Commandante, and that in Monastario's crazed need to capture Zorro, he would believe anything. And even if he doubted what I told him and suspected Diego was Zorro, he would never breathe a word. He is a good friend of yours Diego and he values your life too much to give away your secret. Do not fear…Ramiro will come through for you."

"I know Don Carlos. But I do not want to risk his life to help me. It could be dangerous for him. I do not want him injured or worse…" Diego did not finish his thought. Instead, he sat heavily on the wooden bench. He could see no other way to defeat both Ignacio and Monastario. There was only so much power that the Dons held over the Commandante, and though they may keep him from arresting Diego for a while, if he truly believed Diego was Zorro he would eventually gather enough courage to face the Dons and arrest Diego. If that happened Diego was not certain he would regain his freedom. Despite his better judgement, he looked into the hopeful faces of the men surrounding him and nodded his agreement. "Bernardo should be here soon, and then we will work out the details. I will send someone for Ramiro later in the day."

Several hours later, Diego paced the library floor waiting for Bernardo to return. As the hours stretched on a dark feeling began to settle in Diego's stomach. Something was wrong. He was sure of it. The other Dons were talking quietly in the corner and Diego was surprised the men had not yet asked to see Tornado, but Diego was thankful. Although these men now knew his secret, he was not sure he wanted so many to know the location of Zorro's den – it was still after all a safe haven.

"Diego, will you please stop pacing. It is doing you no good. You will only wear yourself out. It is not late yet, Bernardo will be here soon." Alejandro assured his son. Reluctantly, Diego had told the Dons that Bernardo could actually hear. They were surprised at the revelation, and Don Carlos had even laughed. "So that is how Zorro always seems to know what is going on. He has spies," Carlos had said.

"I know Father. But something is wrong. I can feel it." Alejandro did not doubt his son.

"I will have Juan send a vaquero to the pueblo to check on Bernardo. He can deliver a message to Ramiro as well." Alejandro stood to leave, but Diego shook his head.

"No, I will take care of it." Diego stepped into the warm afternoon. He found Juan by the stables. "Could you send someone to the pueblo to look for Bernardo? He is late returning home and I want to make sure nothing has happened." Diego handed Juan a letter. "Could you also have him deliver this to Don Ramiro Suarez for me."

"Sí," Juan said as he turned to find Felipe. The young vaquero had been injured a few days earlier and Juan thought a short ride could be good for the boy. Juan found the young man tending the garden. Juan gave the boy his instructions and smiled at the joy in Felipe's face. He watched as Felipe scurried away before bending to finish pulling the few weeds Felipe had left.

Diego returned to the library to continue his pacing. Alejandro looked at his son and shook his head. How could he not have noticed Diego's energy? The man could barely sit still and was now walking back and forth, his long stride covering the width of the library quickly. As a child, Diego was always full of boundless energy, running through the orchards, chasing after some small animal or insect, anything that kept his body in motion. Perhaps, that is why he was so puzzled, and he had to admit disappointed, when Diego returned from Spain. He was no longer the son he had remembered. Still, that was no excuse for his blindness.

Diego's normally light steps were heavy on the floor. _He is worried about Bernardo_, Alejandro thought. Diego would never forgive himself if Bernardo was injured because of his secret. Alejandro was suddenly hit with a dreadful feeling and he felt his heart clench. He clearly remembered Diego's dream the night before. The words he had heard resounded in his head. _Don't hurt my father. _How long had his son carried this fear? _Oh, mi hijo. I could have helped you carry this burden, _Alejandro thought, his eyes shining with regret He could not imagine carrying such a weight…to fear everyday that your actions could bring harm to the ones you loved. And now, Diego paced the library floor, his head bowed and his face cast in shadows, waiting for his friend to return. If something happened to Bernardo or him, would Diego ever forgive himself? Alejandro suspected he knew the answer. He silently prayed that Bernardo would return shortly, but a feeling in the back of his mind told him he wouldn't.

The other dons had grown silent and only Diego's footfall could be heard in the library. Alejandro could no longer take the tension so he stood. Addressing the dons he asked, "Would you like a glass of wine. We could sit in the sala."

The Dons stood. "Sí." Carlos answered. The men followed Alejandro through the door. Diego watched them leave and after a moment he to followed. Just as he entered the sala an urgent knock shook the oak door. Striding swiftly to the door, Diego threw it open. A breathless Juan stood at the door, a grim expression on his face.

Alejandro and the others had inched toward the door. "What is wrong, Juan?" Diego asked, all ready knowing the answer. Juan wrung his hands for a moment before looking at Diego. His face was flushed and smears of dirt streaked his cheek.

"Felipe has returned." Juan held out his hand to Diego. A crumbled note sat in his palm and Diego took it. Juan continued, "Felipe said that he could not find Bernardo. Pilar said he was at the tavern for a little while and then he left. No one has seen his since. He should have been back at least an hour ago, yet Felipe did not find him on the road. He even walked off the path, looking for him in case he was thrown. Felipe is upset because he did not find Bernardo."

"It is okay Juan. Tell Felipe he did fine and it wasn't his fault." Diego said sincerely.

Juan nodded in reply and turned, walking across the plaza and through the gate. Diego stared out the door for a minute, his eyes following the vaquero past the gateway. He scrunched the note in his hand, afraid to read it. The flowing script of his name on the outside let him know it was from Ignacio. Monastario did not have very eloquent writing and he would have simply sent Garcia or another soldier to deliver his message. Diego realized he did not ask Juan how Felipe came by the letter, but he could ask later if he thought it was important.

Diego shut the door. The sound reverberated around the room and one of the Dons started at the noise. Diego did not know who and did not care. "What is it?" Alejandro asked.

"A letter from Ignacio." Diego took three long steps and sat heavily on the closest chair. He smoothed out the letter and read the neatly flowing words inside.

_Diego, _

_I have waited years for this day. Benicio was dear to me and I have mourned his death since you wrongly took his life. You took more from me that day than simply my brother. You took my honor and my pride. I had never been bested until you left me the scar – you humiliated me. I swore that day that you would suffer, Diego. I told you to mark my words all those years ago. I have something of yours Diego. If you wish it back, meet me at the plaza, beside the well this evening. And do not worry, Bernardo and I will keep each other company until then. _

_Ignacio Fuentes _

Diego frowned at the words. _What would he do to Bernardo?_ The young don felt renewed hate toward Ignacio. Silently, he vowed he would stop Ignacio today. The man had hurt too many all ready. He would not make any more suffer. Diego faced the waiting men, "When Ramiro arrives, we must move. I will have everything ready. No matter what happens, do not interfere. Help Ramiro as much as you can. Slow down the soldiers if at all possible. But do not put yourselves into danger. Ramiro should not be doing this, but I can see no other way."

Alejandro and the others watched as Diego yanked the door open and stepped outside. When the door closed Diego sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair. He leaned against the wall and tried to think. _Where is Ignacio hiding? He must be close to town. He would not have taken Bernardo far. I doubt he is staying with anyone. An abandoned shack?_ Diego felt his hopes rise and he pushed away from the wall. He would find Bernardo before he met with Ignacio. And maybe he could confront Ignacio away from the pueblo and he wouldn't have to endanger Ramiro or the other Dons.

Striding inside he noticed the dons were no longer in the sala. Thankful they had moved out of the room, he quietly slipped into the cave. He grabbed a sheet of paper and wrote a quick letter to his father and after he was dressed he placed it on the small table in the sala. Sneaking back into the cave he saddled Tornado and mounted. The stallion shifted under his weight and Zorro could feel the excitement in Tornado. "Let's run boy." Diego felt the muscles of the black horse quiver and in a powerful motion the stallion fled the cave, his long mane swaying in the wind. There were several abandoned shacks around the pueblo de los Angeles, and Diego did not have the time to search them all. If Ignacio was not with Bernardo, Diego still had to meet him in a couple of hours. Turning his mount west, Zorro crossed the orchard and followed a small path toward the pueblo. There were several shacks along this route that used to belong to the Indians before they moved to the monastery. Zorro had a feeling he would find Ignacio or Bernardo in one of them.

**TBC**


	21. Chapter 21

It took Zorro over an hour before he found the run-down shack that sat off the road. The ground was littered with horse tracks and boot prints. The earlier huts he had checked before were abandoned, their walls caving in and the roofs leaking. No one had been in the buildings for years. Zorro doubted that even a wayward traveler had sought the little protection they offered. This building was in better condition and a thin wisp of smoke curled around the chimney. A small fire was burning inside the hut. Zorro heard a snort to his left and he dismounted. He moved slowly to the back of the building, keeping hidden in the shadows of the trees, and found two horses tied to a branch. The animals were munching happily on the grass at their feet and the occasional leaf they could reach.

A smile crossed the masked man's face when he saw the brown chestnut. Bernardo was here! Zorro crept back to the house, his boots making little noise on the grass and dirt. He stepped to the wall and leaned carefully against it, straining to hear anything inside. For a brief moment he thought he heard shuffling, but the sound was quick and quiet and he wasn't sure if he truly heard it or if it was his hopes playing tricks on his mind. Shifting to the small window on the east of the building, he took of his hat and peered cautiously through the hole. His eyes could make out little at first, the room was dark except for a small fire in the stove, but that light was diminished by the half closed stove door. He heard the movement again and he strained to see into the darkened room. In the far corner, sheltered in shadows, Zorro thought he saw a figure move. As his eyes focused in the dim light, the shape began to emerge into his friend Bernardo. The man was tied to a chair, his back to the window, and his hands clearly bound behind him.

Zorro moved from the window. He could not see Ignacio within the building, but that did not mean he wasn't there. It was impossible to see into the second room from the window. An uneasy feeling washed over the Fox and he turned swiftly, scanning the road and trees around him. _Where was Ignacio?_ He had to be here – his horse was tied in the back. His hazel eyes found nothing in their quick search but Zorro knew Ignacio was hidden somewhere. His first priority, however, was to rescue Bernardo. He would worry about Ignacio after he knew Bernardo was safe.

The door creaked loudly as he pushed it open. Zorro cringed at the sound and wished he could have used the window, but the space was too small to fit through. Bernardo jerked at the sound and tried to turn. The chair would not let him and it squeaked loudly as if protesting the sudden movement. El Zorro scanned the room quickly, noting only Bernardo was in the room. Dropping to a knee beside the chair, Zorro took out his knife and cut the ropes that held his friend to the chair.

Bernardo's reaction surprised Zorro. Bernardo jumped up and waved his arms wildly in the air. One hand whipped to the side, a finger pointing toward the door. "Calm down Bernardo. I can't understand you." Bernardo took a deep breath and began again and although his movements were still hasty they lacked the wildness of before. "Ignacio is still here. Yes, I know. Do you know where he is?"

"I am right here, my friend." Zorro spun at the sound. Ignacio stood in the doorway, his tall figure silhouetted against the sun. The Fox took a step back and drew his sword. "I am not here to fight you. I am saving that for later today," Ignacio said, a grin spreading across his face.

"You expected me to find him, didn't you?" Zorro asked. His sword was still gripped in his hand even though Ignacio had not yet drawn his.

"Yes. I wanted you to know that nothing dear to you is safe. I could destroy everything you are Diego, without ever touching you. I will get my vengeance, even if I have to go through your family and friends to reach you. Before the sun sets, you will be dead, Diego." Ignacio crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame.

Zorro ignored the fact that Ignacio was calling him Diego. The man would not have believed him if he denied he was Diego de la Vega. Instead, Zorro sheathed his weapon and took a step toward Ignacio. "You couldn't beat me in Spain. What makes you think you can beat me now?"

Ignacio pushed away from the cracking wood frame and glared at Diego. His brown eyes were large in the grey light of the shack, "Revenge is a powerful motivator. When you left, I practiced day and night. I let the image of my brother give me strength. The memory of his pale face, the dry blood on my hands drove me to perfection. I will not lose to you Diego."

Zorro took another step toward Ignacio, "Then why did you bring Capitán Monastario in on your plan. You can not defeat me on your own."

Ignacio shifted his weight and his hand inched toward his sword. _Come on_, Diego thought, _take the challenge. Fight me here so I do not have to put Ramiro into danger_. Ignacio continued to glare at Zorro, his lips pressed tightly together into a thin compressed line and his eyebrows scrunched together, but he stayed his hand and let it drop to his side. Zorro could see Ignacio's internal struggle to calm himself and he pushed at the man again. Diego hated what he was about to say, but he needed to fight Ignacio here. It was the only way he could ensure no one would be hurt. "You are no better than your brother. He was a dishonorable coward who deserved his fate."

Ignacio growled a deep sound that emanated from the depth of his body. His hand twitched and before Diego could move, Ignacio's fingers reached his knife. The weapon made little sound as it pierced the air. Zorro's eyes grew wide as he saw the light glint off the blade and the path that took it away from him. He turned just as the dagger found its mark. Bernardo opened his mouth in a soundless cry and fell, his body catching the chair and dragging it to the floor.

"Bernardo!" Diego reached his friend in two quick steps. Blood pooled under his friend and the knife handle protruded from Bernardo's left shoulder. Zorro ripped off his mask and bandanna and wadded the material around the blade. The compact slowed the bleeding only slightly and Diego felt panic well up. It was an unexpected feeling and it left him shaking. He was at least half an hour from the hacienda and even farther from the pueblo. Could Bernardo make the ride home? A deep laugh sounded from the doorway and Diego twisted to look at the sun-filled opening, his thoughts halted at the unexpected sound.

Ignacio's eyes were wild as he watched the scene. "You are weak Diego. Your loyalties will kill you. I will be at the plaza. When you have taken care of your friend, find me. I will be waiting, and we shall learn who will live and who will die." Ignacio turned and fled, his laugh echoing in Diego's mind as he turned back to his fallen comrade.

Bernardo had his eyes squeezed shut and his face had gone pale. Diego put a hand on his friend's unhurt shoulder, "Everything will be fine Bernardo. I will have you to a doctor in no time." Diego took a deep breath and tried to think. Would it be better to leave his friend here and go for help or should he take Bernardo with him? Taking Bernardo with him meant Bernardo would get help quicker, but it also meant he would have to ride Tornado, and while the horse could be gentle, the ride would still be excruciating on Bernardo.

Diego was rarely indecisive; his decisions always came to him quickly and easily. Sighing Diego made his decision. He bent and gently scoped Bernardo into his arms. Rising, he shifted Bernardo's weight and moved slowly out of the room and into the gradually waning light. A sharp whistle pierced the air, and Tornado's whinny answered. A moment later, the horse stood in front of Diego. Tornado remained still as Diego helped Bernardo into the saddle. Diego climbed behind Bernardo and supported his friend. Tornado could sense Diego's urgency and his muscles rippled. Diego spoke softly to his mount, "Easy boy. We have to go quickly, but carefully. Go gently boy."

Diego had drawn another mask from his saddlebag as he rode and with one hand he tied it in place. He put his hat back on as he neared the hacienda. Bernardo was lax in his grip and Diego shifted his friend to get a better look at the wound. Diego could not tell how much the wound was bleeding. The black material seemed to soak up the blood. Diego smiled when he saw the orchard. They were nearly home.

The Dons emerged from the house just as Zorro stopped at the gate. They stared at the two figures, their minds shocked at the sight. Bernardo sat hunched in front of Zorro, his shirt bloody and a thin bone handled blade protruding from his shoulder. Zorro looked tired and his mask was crooked, his hat titled oddly on his head.

Juan was behind the Dons as they moved across the courtyard and he moved quickly to Zorro's side. "Madre de Dios," he muttered as Diego gently handed Bernardo to him and another vaquero who had just arrived. "I have sent Felipe for Doctor Hernandez. He should be here soon. Benito saw you riding through the orchard and he came straight to me."

"Thank you." Zorro dismounted slowly as Juan and Guillermo carried Bernardo inside. Alejandro began to follow the two men when he realized Diego was still standing by Tornado. The other Dons continued into the house as Alejandro moved back to the gate. "I have to go, Father. I will be back in a few minutes. But I must take care of Tornado and change."

Alejandro nodded and squeezed his son's shoulder. Diego mounted stiffly and nudged Tornado into motion. Once in the cave, Diego slid from the saddle and sat heavily on the straw, his back leaning against the stone wall. Tornado nudged his master but moved back when Diego ignored him. Diego put his head in his hands and took several deep breathes. He cringed when he realized he still wore his bloodied gloves. Yanking them off, he threw them across the cavern where they landed ignored in the corner. Diego stripped his mask from his face and threw it aside as well.

_How did everything go so wrong?_ He was a man used to being in control and suddenly his life seemed to be wrenched from his grasp. The feeling was unsettling and Diego shook his head in an attempt to rid himself of the sensation. Tonight, he would be back in control. Once Ignacio was on a boat to Spain, everything would slowly return to normal. Bernardo would heal, he told himself, and he would continue to defy Monastario. But a nagging doubt crept into his thoughts, and the dark mood followed him through the small tunnel. He sat at the corner of his desk and slowly removed his shirt. He grabbed a pitcher of water from a shelf and washed his face and hands. He took off his boots and pants and slowly dressed as Diego. He ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath to calm his nerves.

He wandered back down the tunnel and unsaddled Tornado and feed the stallion a bucket of oats. Diego grabbed a brush and rubbed the animal down. "You did well my friend." Diego stroked Tornado's face for a moment. "If things go wrong, I will have father set you free." Diego left his horse and headed into the evening air. It had been over two hours since he had left the hacienda and he only had a couple of hours before he was to meet Ignacio.

Diego found the Dons in the library. Doctor Hernandez had arrived while Diego was taking care of Tornado. The good doctor had quickly, but gently, ushered Diego out of Bernardo's room. Doctor Hernandez had assured the young Don he would be done and would be out shortly to talk to him. Diego left reluctantly and headed to find his father. The Dons turned as one to look at Diego as he entered. Don Ramiro was with them and Diego wondered how they were going to explain still needing his help after Zorro had just delivered Bernardo to the hacienda.

Alejandro moved quickly to his son and gripped his shoulders. "He will be fine, mí hijo. Do not worry. Now tell me what has happened."

Diego looked at Ramiro and the young man met his gaze. Ramiro spoke quietly. "I know Diego. Do not worry your secret is safe with me." Ramiro smiled, "I was a little surprised at first. But then I remembered what you were like as a child. You were always the first one to take action, no matter the consequence. You were always willing to take a punishment if you thought what you did was right. You haven't changed after all, I guess." Ramiro sobered and his voice grew even quieter. "I am still willing to help, no matter what happens, Diego."

Diego smiled at his childhood friend. "Gracias. I fear you will be placed in danger. I do not like the plan, but I can think of nothing else. At least nothing that can save both me and Zorro."

Don Fernando stepped forward, "We are all willing to help." Fernando grew quiet as the sound of footsteps reached his ears. Doctor Hernandez entered the library and a small smile graced his features.

"Bernardo will be fine. I have stitched the wound and have given him a tea to help him sleep."

Diego exhaled the breath he had been holding and rubbed a hand across his eyes. His head was pounding and his neck ached. "Thank you."

"Make sure he gets a lot of rest over the next few days. I will leave some pain medication and some more tea to help him sleep. Tomorrow I will come by to check on him." Doctor Hernandez eyed the men around him. Alejandro stood close to Diego, his arm mere inches from Diego. Don Fernando and Don Ramiro and Don Armando were on the left side of Diego, and Don Carlos and Don Rafael stood beside Alejandro. Doctor Hernandez realized at that moment that every man in the room knew who Zorro was and that they were determined to keep the masked man's identify safe. "What are you planning?"

Doctor Hernandez sat on the sofa and listened to the Dons' plan. Diego had excused himself to go see Bernardo. He sat at the small desk in the corner of Bernardo's room and pulled out a sheet of paper. He quickly scrawled a note for his friend and folded it. Before he went back to the library he slipped into the cave and placed the note on his desk. He grabbed a clean Zorro outfit before leaving the cave. Doctor Hernandez was asking a question when Diego entered the library. Doctor Hernandez's question went unanswered as the gathered men looked at Diego. "Ignacio is waiting."

**TBC**


	22. Chapter 22

As the gathered men rode toward the pueblo, Diego told the Dons what had happened in the shack. His voice deepened as he described the confrontation with Ignacio and Bernardo's injury. Ramiro smiled slightly to himself despite the situation. This was the man he remembered – a fiery spirit full of passion and protectiveness. Ramiro knew that Don Diego blamed himself for what happened, and in a small way Ramiro agreed with Diego, although he knew Ignacio would have done something to hurt Diego and his family soon. Ramiro quickly squelched his line of thinking, knowing that Diego did what he thought was right and that sometimes things simply went wrong. He, like the other Dons, would never blame Diego for what happened to Bernardo, yet he didn't know how he could convince Diego of that.

Ramiro turned slightly in his saddle and glanced at the face of Alejandro. The man rode several steps to his left and slightly behind him. Alejandro looked worried, as did the other Dons, and his brown eyes seemed unusually dark in the evening sun. Ramiro noticed that Alejandro kept glancing at Diego and he could tell the older man wished to say something but Diego was still telling his story, so the older Don stayed quiet. Ramiro's mind wandered again as his gloved hand slid to the saddlebag that contained the dark outfit and he felt a tiny shiver run up his spine. The idea of being Zorro - a legend - excited Ramiro even though he knew the dangers of the plan. He was brought back to awareness when Alejandro at last spoke.

"It was not your fault Diego. Bernardo knew what he was doing when he decided to help you years ago. Ignacio is the only one you should be blaming. He is an evil man who cares little about who he hurts. You were trying to force his hand and it didn't work. No one is perfect Diego. You made a mistake and misjudged the man, but you can set things right now. We will help you Diego." Alejandro had twisted in the saddle so he could see Diego's face better and now he stopped his horse and looked at his son. "Let it go Diego. He will use your doubts and fears against you. Ignacio is a ruthless man but he is cunning."

"I know. But…" Diego did not finish, his head was pounding against his skull and rubbed his temples in a vain gesture to ease the pain. The young don shook his head to dismiss the conversation and touched his heels to his horse. The young mare trotted ahead of the group.

Fifteen minutes later, Diego pulled up his reigns and stopped his mount. The group of men slowly spread out around him. Doctor Hernandez stayed on the edge of the group, his keen eyes roaming over the tired figure of Don Diego, and the doctor shook his head as Diego rubbed his temple again. Diego's voice was quieter than it had been and Doctor Hernandez had to strain to hear Diego.

"This is where we will part. Don Ramiro and Don Armando will circle around the pueblo," Diego looked at the two men, "but stay out of sight until the duel begins. If something goes wrong, don't stay. Just ride as hard as you can and get to the cave I told you about."

Diego met the eyes of the remaining men, "Don't interfere unless something happens. It shouldn't be needed, but distract the guards if you can. Give Ramiro as much time as possible to escape. Hopefully, Monastario will be too distracted to order the soldiers to follow you," Diego said focusing on Ramiro.

Ramiro nodded and without a word pulled his mount off the road. Don Armando clasped Diego's arm before following the young man, "Be careful." Don Carlos also bid his nephew good luck and he wished him a safe journey before the young man disappeared.

Diego idly watched the clouds as they turned from white to grey to purple, and he almost smiled when rose crept into the blushing sunset but he was drawn back to reality as dust obscured his vision. He had tried to quiet his wits but his thoughts were chaotic and rampaging and Diego had turned to nature to ease the drumming in his skull. He took several deep breaths as he attempted to reign in his discouraging thoughts. Doubt could not control his emotions. If he doubted he would lose. Ignacio would play on his fears and turn them against him. Diego knew he should ignore the thoughts that ran wild in his brain and he desperately tried to turn his thoughts elsewhere. The clouds brought little refuge, but Diego continued to focus on the changing hues.

Yet, Diego's heart was heavy as he entered the gates of the Pueblo de los Angeles and his mind kept replaying the last few hours, the mistake that nearly cost Bernardo his life. _How foolish could I have been,_ he questioned. Diego knew that it was his fault Bernardo was now lying, wounded and in pain, at the hacienda. When the Fox was born, Diego knew there would be risks, but at the beginning he never truly considered that his actions would put others in danger. Thinking back, his mind conjured up images of villagers tied to posts awaiting a flogging or men forced into hard labor simply to draw out Zorro. Diego did not doubt that things would be worse without his actions, but a nagging feeling told him it may not have been worth it. His father suffered for his charade, Bernardo suffered now, and others were forced to carry Zorro's burden when they were used to bait him. Still, Diego knew he was needed and that he would continue to fight as long as he was able or as long as he was needed.

With great difficulty, Diego focused on the present, on the man he knew was waiting for him, and the duel that would shortly take place. Diego prayed Ramiro would not be injured and that the plan was successful. The young Don knew he could defeat Ignacio. He knew that there were few who could best him and that thought gave him some comfort. Diego had faced worse as Zorro and his wits, humour, and physical strength had always been triumphant. Diego had to become Zorro to win. Zorro had the traits Diego needed – he was confidant, unwavering, swift, and most importantly, he had a strength born from honor and courage. Diego felt a calm, self-assured feeling settle over him as the clouds turned to flame and the east lay bordered in darkness. Diego would take the strengths Zorro had and use them to defeat Ignacio.

Alejandro and the other men rode behind Diego, their horses stirring up a heavy dust that swirled around the group. The gathered Dons rode in silence, each wrapped in their own fears and worries. Dark eyes often turned to Diego, and Alejandro noticed the change in Diego as soon as it happened. His son had sat his horse slumped in the saddle as they first rode from the hacienda and his posture did not improve when they parted from Don Ramiro and Don Armando. But as they neared the pueblo Diego seemed to change. Now…now his son sat straight in the saddle, his once slumped shoulders lifted and his head held proud. Alejandro felt relieved to see Diego's mood improve. His only child would need strength and brains to defeat Ignacio and Monastario. Alejandro prayed as he rode – simple words that were repeated over and over, even as the dust lay heavy on his shoulders and fear burned dark in his eyes. _Keep my son safe, Lord. He is my life and my joy. I have just found him; do not let me lose him now._

There was a subtle shift in the group as they passed through the dry streets of Los Angeles. Peasants, vaqueros, and Indians stopped to watch the men ride past. Children hid in the shadows, their eyes wide with wonder as they crept after the mounted Dons. Rumours flamed into existence by Ignacio had spread through the small pueblo and nearly every man, woman, and child knew of the impending duel. Diego stared in silent wonder at the dark faces that smiled encouragingly as he rode past or the brief word from a Don declaring his faith in the young man.

A crowd had gathered around the plaza, but the mass of people parted to let the six men through. Diego and the others dismounted in front of the tavern and walked the short distance to the plaza. Diego could see Ignacio and Monastario within the circle and Sergeant Garcia stood on the edge, as did a number of other soldiers who formed the inner layer of the circle. Doctor Hernandez clutched his bag as he followed Diego and Alejandro through the press of people and into the clearing. Don Fernando and Don Carlos flanked Diego and Alejandro and Don Rafael stood at the back. The men all wore swords and Monastario looked shocked as his eye caught the glint of the sun on steel.

"I thought perhaps you wouldn't come," Ignacio quipped, his words sharp and loud in the sudden quiet.

Diego took a step forward as he spoke, "Years ago, you thrust me into doing something I loathed, and because of it I laid my sword aside, but now, you have overstepped my patience and I will not regret the actions I shall take today. Before the sun rises, you will leave California, I will see to it."

Ignacio grinned and drew his sword, "I shall leave California, but only after your blood dances across my blade."

Monastario watched in awe as Diego took another step forward. The Don was clad in dark brown pants and a white shirt. His hat and coat were not in sight, and the Commandante doubted he had bothered to don them before leaving the hacienda. Monastario had heard about the incident with Bernardo and even he felt that Ignacio had sunk too low when he injured the deaf, mute servant. Monastario could clearly see the famous de la Vega temper displayed on Diego's face and Monastario smirked to himself. He always knew there was more to the man than the passive façade he wore. What a great disguise, Monastario admitted to himself. Zorro had hidden in plain sight and Monastario had missed it. Yes, he had suspected Don Diego in the past, but truthfully he had never really believed his accusations, not until now. Capítan Monastario knew that Diego de la Vega was indeed the cunning El Zorro.

Monastario could barely recognize the clumsy and ridiculously inept man that Diego had once portrayed. In its place, stood a proud and strong man, an individual who moved with grace and dignity. Ignacio's clear threat did not seem to faze Diego, even when the Capítan himself edged back from the vehemence in the words. Monastario was looking forward to this fight. If Diego lost, he would be rid of Zorro and he could return to his beloved Spain a hero. Even if Diego won, Monastario would arrest him for treason and the Don would hang from the gallows as a warning to anyone who would oppose rule of the Spanish military. _Yes, this would be a good day_, the Commandante decided as he sat back on his heels in anticipation of the fast approaching duel.

Don Carlos laid a supportive hand on Alejandro's arm. Diego had moved closer to Ignacio and Don Carlos gently pulled Alejandro from the circle. Doctor Hernandez, Don Fernando and Don Rafael were all ready huddled at the edge of the ring, their faces grey in the waning light. Alejandro could hear his son's words clearly and he shivered slightly at the deep voice and the light, almost mocking, tone his son adopted.

"You will leave California in disgrace, just as you left Spain. You will find no satisfaction here." Diego taunted as he took another step forward. His sword stayed in its scabbard, the silver hilt bright in the last vestiges of the evening sun.

Ignacio's reply was cut short when a voice echoed through the dust-filled air. "Ah…I see our friend has finally found the courage to face you Diego."

Monastario turned to see Zorro at the edge of the crowd. He sat easily in the saddle and his horse pranced beneath him. Monastario thought the voice was not quite right, but he dismissed the notion quickly. His mind was too occupied with surprise to order his soldiers to fire. Instead he gaped at the masked man and turned astonished eyes to Diego.

Diego spoke then, a smile on his previously serious face. "Yes. It has taken him quite a while, but here we are. Have you come to cheer me."  
"Sí. I doubt you will need it, but I offer you my assistance." Zorro said as he nodded at Diego.

"Your offer is appreciated, but this is between me and Ignacio."

"As it should be. Still, I felt I should at least offer. Buenos suerte, mi amigo." Zorro said as he turned his horse and fled the pueblo.

Monastario watched the cloaked man disappear and it wasn't until the figure had faded into the shadows that the Capítan regained his senses. "Soldiers, after him. I want Zorro brought to me." Sergeant Garcia repeated the Commandante's orders then watched as his men moved slowly to their horses but he made no move to hurry them along. The Commandant could order them to go quicker if he wanted, but Garcia turned his attention back to his friend.

Ramiro cleared the pueblo quickly and he and Don Armando rode to the church where Ramiro discarded the dark clothing behind a tall bush. The two Dons were on their way back to the plaza when the soldiers passed them, their horses kicking up dust as they raced from the pueblo. Ramiro smiled at the ease of the plan. He had to admit that it felt good to play Zorro, but he doubted he could play the game as long as Diego has.

Diego was a few feet from Ignacio when Ramiro and Armando pushed their way through the crowd to stand next to Don Alejandro. Don Carlos clasped his nephew on the arm and pulled him close. "I am glad you are safe. Monastario looks as if he ate something sour. I suppose we have sufficiently detoured Monastario from arresting Diego. I am proud of you Ramiro, and I am sorry I was not with you, but I felt Alejandro needed my support more," Carlos whispered in his nephew's ear. Ramiro nodded in reply and smiled.

Monastario stewed as he watched his incompetent soldiers pursue the masked bandit. He had been certain Diego was Zorro, yet the bandito had just appeared in the plaza. The accursed Fox could leave nothing alone. His plan had unraveled and he felt any hope of returning to Spain disappear. Perhaps, Monastario mused, Ignacio would put the de la Vega's in their place. Brown eyes narrowed as they settled on the handsome face of Diego de la Vega. Something just wasn't right, but Monastario had no time to ponder his doubts.

"You will die Diego. I shall have revenge for my brother. You humiliated me once and you will not do it again. I shall kill you just as my brother killed Arturo. He was as weak as you Diego." Ignacio lunged before the words faded.

**TBC**


	23. Chapter 23

Diego twisted to the side and Ignacio's blade sailed harmlessly past him. Diego stepped backward and drew his weapon. The thin blade balanced perfectly in his strong hand and he enjoyed the feel for a brief moment. Expect for his short demonstration, Diego had not used this sword since his return from Spain, and it felt light and quick in his hand. Diego watched as Ignacio composed himself.

Ignacio ran a finger across his scar and stared at Diego. His eyes were narrowed behind shadowed eyelids and his lips were curled into a half grin that left him looking slightly mad. Ignacio readjusted his weapon and dusted off his shirt sleeve, his body relaxing as he inhaled a breath and let it out slowly. He wore a simple white shirt, the sleeves loose but slim, and the wrists tied close to his skin. His pants were dark blue, almost black in the failing light. He had set his jacket on his saddle, along with his gloves and hat. A knife was wedged in his boot, the handle hidden in the dark leather.

Diego stood with his body taunt, his knees slightly bent to help maintain his balance. He knew Ignacio would not be so rash with his next move. Diego maintained his defensive stance as Ignacio edged closer. The sound of steel colliding echoed across the plaza. Ignacio swept his sword downward and Diego rose up to meet him. Diego's weapon vibrated with the force of the blow. _At this rate_, Diego thought, _Ignacio will tire himself out quickly_.

Ignacio pressed his advance, his blade moving quickly and precisely. The two figures moved around the center of the circle swiftly, their booted feet stirring up a fine layer of dust that swirled in the slight wind. Alejandro held his breath as the fight continued and awe crept into his wide eyes as his son parried a thrust and twisted on his heels. His blade swung up and connected with Ignacio's steel weapon. For a moment, the two men stood still, their swords held against each other, poised in mid-air as the dust settled around them.

Diego back peddled and his sword fell free. Ignacio took a moment to catch his breath as he surveyed his opponent. He had not expected Diego to put up such a fight. Although he knew he played the part of masked bandit, Ignacio was not impressed with the soldiers. Ignacio thought this would be an easy battle. His anger rose as he looked at Diego. The lean caballero stood waiting, his sword held down and his left arm slightly behind him. A small smile played across the lips of the caballero and Ignacio scowled at the man.

_I will not lose_, Ignacio thought as he pressed an advance. He thrust his blade at Diego and was angered when his sword met steel. In a flurry of movement, the two men collided and Ignacio caught Diego on his jaw with his left fist. Diego staggered back a step and looked at Ignacio in surprise. The man simply could not fight honorably. Blood dripped lazily from Diego's busted lip and he swiped the back of his hand across the cut.

"You have no honor, Ignacio. You will do anything to win, but by dishonoring yourself you lose. You can not defeat me. I have always been your better. Go home, Ignacio. Forget what happened and live your life." Diego tried to get through to the man; he did not wish to continue the fight, but he would not back down.

"I will not let you defeat me Diego. You will die by my hand. I swore I would avenge Benicio. My blood sealed my vow and I will not dishonor him. As I said earlier, you will die today Diego. You can only delay it so long."

Diego could not respond as Ignacio lunged. Diego spun, twisting his torso and stepping back, but the blade caught his shirt and cut a shallow furrow along his ribs. The wound stung, but it was not fatal. Ignacio pressed his attack again, hoping to catch Diego before he found his balance, but Diego had recovered and he met Ignacio. The crowd gasped as the two men fought, the advantage going from one man to the other.

Monastario stared dumbfounded, his jaw slightly open and his dark brown eyes wide. Diego moved with a grace and speed he had not seen even Zorro use. The Commandante was not certain Zorro would win against Diego. Ignacio was also a master and Monastario felt fear course down his spine. He fancied himself a decent swordsman, but he held nothing compared to these two fighters. Monastario started in surprise as Ignacio stumbled. The man caught himself before he fell and he stooped, one hand resting against his knee. Diego hung back, letting the man recover. _A fool_, Monastario thought, a_ stupid noble fool_.

Garcia could not believe that this Don was the same gentle, peaceful man he had known. Garcia held no reservations about his own skill and he knew he would be slaughtered by Ignacio and easily defeated by Diego. Never had he seen two such masters fight. Sergeant Garcia was not certain which man was better, but he would lay all his wages in favor of Diego. He did not doubt his friend would beat Ignacio. Although, he said a small prayer just to be sure. _No harm in being well prepared,_ he thought.

Ignacio was beginning to feel the strain of the fight on his muscles. His arms shook slightly and his legs burned. He knew Diego was just as tired. Sweat and dust covered the faces of both men and at the moment, neither man looked to be a Don. Diego's shirt was torn and bloody, as was his lip, and his hair fell across his brow. Ignacio's shirt was covered in sweat and his knuckles were broken and bleeding.

The crowd cheered sporadically as the fight ensued and they stared at the two men in wonder. In their eyes, Diego was forever a changed man. The onlookers had seen the fire and passion that was part of the de la Vega heritage and they could never forget the fight. Even if Diego put his sword away once again and became the passive Don they had come to know, the men, women, and children gathered would never see him as an inept fool, but instead a proud and honorable de la Vega. The people of the pueblo de los Angeles had always admired Diego for his kindness and concern, but now they would cherish him as a fighter and a scholar.

The clink of steel against steel wafted across the pueblo and Ignacio staggered. Diego took the offensive and lunged; his blade found hardened flesh and pierced the side of Ignacio's left arm. Ignacio grabbed his arm and hissed against the pain, falling to one knee. Blood seeped through his fingers and he glared at Diego. While he had only scratched Diego, Ignacio's wound bleed deeply. Slick fingers readjusted their hold on his sword and his left arm, although burning with pain, moved slowly toward his boot.

Diego saw the blood as Ignacio knelt in the dirt. "Do you surrender?" Diego took a step closer. Ignacio swallowed down the pain and gathered his strength. He sprang as Diego moved another step closer. His dagger flashed in the waning light and Diego could not react quickly enough to keep the blade from sinking into his thigh. Ignacio laughed as Diego stumbled backward.

From the corner of this eye, Diego could see Alejandro lurch forward, but he waved him back. Reluctantly, Alejandro obeyed, his dark eyes filled with worry as he watched the blood drip from Diego's leg. Don Carlos laid a reassuring hand on Alejandro's arm. Doctor Hernandez clasped his bag and could barely suppress the urge to move to Diego's side. Hernandez shook his head as he realized he had no compulsion to aid Ignacio. Of course, he would help the man, but he resigned himself to the fact he would not enjoy it.

Diego shifted his weight and grimaced as pain flared in his leg. He tossed the dagger to the side. Ignacio was rising unsteadily to his feet. Diego held his ground as Ignacio approached slowly. "We will end this now, Diego. You can surrender and I will make your death quick. Or I can bleed you to death."

Diego said nothing. Instead he gritted his teeth and raised his sword. He knew that this was the last each man had in him. Ignacio's left arm was soaked red and it dripped from his fingertips to pool in small puddles beneath him. His own leg oozed blood and each step brought fresh pain to his limb.

The crowded plaza had grown eerily quiet, as if the whole pueblo was holding its breath. And in truth, some were. Alejandro sucked in a deep breath…fear welled in his breast as he watched his son standing in the plaza, his clothes bloodied and his hair matted to his face. A sense of urgency and finality filled the air and in a chaotic moment, the two men moved. Ignacio lurched forward, his body colliding with Diego and the two men sprawled in the dust. Ignacio's fist connected with Diego's ribs and Diego felt his breath escape between clenched teeth. In desperation, Diego swung his sword arm and the hilt caught Ignacio on the shoulder. The man grunted in pain and rolled off of the Don.

_So much for an honorable fight_, Diego thought as he struggled to gain his feet. Ignacio reached for Diego's ankle, his fingers grazing the brown pant leg, but he was unable to grip the material. Diego managed to rise and he took a shaky step toward Ignacio with his sword pointed down and his eyes wide and alert. Ignacio had managed to stand as well and the two men glared at each other for a moment. This time, Diego made the first move. With speed belying his injury, Diego lunged. Ignacio parried the move but Diego took another quick step toward him, closing the distance and his left fist connected solidly with Ignacio's jaw. Ignacio fell.

Ignacio Fuentes looked up into the angry face of Diego de la Vega and his eyes traveled down the Don's arm to the thin steel blade that rested lightly against his chest. "You are defeated, Ignacio. Stand down," The Don's smooth voice infuriated Ignacio and he felt a muscle in his jaw twitch.

The defeated man did not move for several minutes and finally he shook his head slowly as though the acknowledgement of his defeat hurt physically. Ignacio rose but Diego kept his sword in place. He did not trust Ignacio and until the man had relinquished his own weapon Diego was taking no chances. Diego repeated his last plea, his voice harsh from pain and fatigue "Stand down, Ignacio."

Brown eyes met hazel and Diego could barely suppress the shiver that wanted to run through his spine. There was something wild in Ignacio's eyes that frightened Diego. Instinctively, Diego took a step back. Ignacio looked around the crowd, saw the angry and disgusted faces and laughed. What did he care about these peasants? They would follow a killer and a bandit without hesitation. These simple people were blinded by a thin façade and never once did they think Diego was more than he claimed.

Ignacio hated Diego. He hated Diego for being something he himself could never be, for being a true gentleman and caballero, a scholar and a fighter. De la Vega was the gem of the University in Spain, the man everyone wanted to become. Handsome, intelligent, witty, a poet and a warrior. Ignacio had learned to hate the man even before he killed his brother. A part of him knew that Diego was not to blame for his brother's death, but he had long ago squelched those feelings. Now all he could think about was how this man had beaten and humiliated him once more.

Ignacio knew he could never return to Spain. His home was lost to him. He had sacrificed his friends for this forsaken quest and while he knew he would do it again, he could not help but feel he may have chosen the wrong road. He had killed a man in Spain – an old classmate of Diego's who knew where Diego lived. No…he had to finish this now. One way or another, Diego would suffer. Earlier, before the fight, an idea had come to him but he had dismissed it, unwilling to make that sacrifice, but now as he stood defeated before his self proclaimed enemy Ignacio resolved himself to the action. He had no home, no family, and no life – he would not spend the rest of his days in some prison. He was a caballero, not some lowly peasant.

"I surrender, Diego." Ignacio spoke softly and Diego was uncertain he had heard correctly, but relief flooded through his raw nerves as the sound of metal hitting dirt reached his ears. The muted thud washed through the crowd and Alejandro let out the breath he held.

In the sudden cacophony of voices, few heard Ignacio's next words. "If I can not kill you Diego, then you will live with my death. Let my blood stain your soul Diego, for I shall haunt you alongside my brother." Before Diego could react and lower his weapon, Ignacio leaned his body forward. Diego jerked his arm back, but it was too late. The sharp blade slid between Ignacio's ribs as he pushed his body forward. Ignacio gasped and blood trickled from his lip to mingle with the dust. Diego fell, unable to hold the sudden weight. The voices ceased suddenly and the sound of the two men falling seemed unusually loud in the twilight.

Deep shadows had begun to form and darkness lapped at the edges of the pueblo. Diego lay on his side, his hazel eyes staring at Ignacio's face. The man looked almost peaceful as he lay there wheezing and blood foamed at the corners of his mouth as he coughed. "I won," Ignacio mumbled before his eyes closed. Diego did not move until Ignacio's head rolled to the side and his breathing stilled. It was only a matter of seconds, but it seemed a lifetime to Diego.

"No…" Diego whispered, pulling his sword free. He placed a hand on the man's chest but felt nothing. Doctor Hernandez was suddenly in Diego's vision, kneeling next to the fallen man and Diego felt a warm hand on his shoulder.

"Rest easy, mi hijo. It is over." Diego shook his head. It would never be over…Ignacio had made certain of that.

**TBC**

**A/N: Thanks for all of the reviews. Just thought I would let you guys know there are only a couple of chapters left. Hope you enjoy them! -Awen**


	24. Chapter 24

Diego sat on a low bench in the tavern, his eyes closed and his head resting on the wall behind him. The rough wood was uncomfortable, but Diego cared little, and in truth, between the pounding in his head and the fire in his leg he barely noticed the discomfort. Voices drifted around him but he paid them little heed. _I am such a fool. I should have stopped him._ _I should have done something_, Diego berated himself.

Warm hands touched Diego's cheek and he opened his heavy lids. His father's tanned face peered back at him. Worry etched deep furrows in Alejandro's brow and he seemed weary to Diego. "Come Diego. Let's get you to a room so Doctor Hernandez can fix your leg." Diego nodded and Alejandro helped his son stand. Don Fernando stepped forward and both he and Alejandro managed to get Diego up the stairs and into a small room. Diego fell heavily onto the bed. He could not remember being more exhausted in his life. Even hours of sword practice at the University left him with more energy. His eyes felt dry and heavy and he found it hard to keep them open.

Diego started when a hand pressed on his leg and his eyes flew open as pain laced his nerves. "Ahh…what?"

"It is all right, Diego. I am sorry, but I have to stitch and wrap your leg. I am going to give you some tea. I want you to drink it and rest for a while." Doctor Hernandez patted Diego's calf and smiled at the weary Don. "It will hurt Diego, but I will be quick."

"It is fine. Do what you have to Doctor." Diego managed a small smile before he closed his eyes. He barely registered the other men in the room. His father sat at the head of the bed, his brown eyes dark and shining as he stared at his son's face. Fernando sat in a chair in the corner watching Doctor Hernandez. Don Carlos was also present and he stood by the door, guarding it from the Commandante whom he knew would soon arrive. Don Armanda, Rafael, and Ramiro also stood in the hall keeping the door safe from unwanted guests.

Within a couple of minutes Doctor Hernandez had stitched the leg wound and had wrapped a clean bandage around the inflamed area. He also cleaned and wrapped the cut along Diego's ribs, even though it was superficial. "Diego, I need you to sit up. Drink this," he said as he retrieved a steaming cup from the nightstand and placed it to Diego's lips.

Diego sank into the bed gratefully. The tea was warm and soothing and he felt his body relax. Diego gave into the tea and was soon asleep. Alejandro stayed by his son's side long after his breathing deepened and his body fully relaxed. The others, save Don Fernando, wandered to the lower floor and sat around a large round table, a bottle of wine nestled among glasses and empty food bowls. They sat quietly in the tavern long after the sun had fallen and the guests had made their way home. The tavern had been full after the fight and the Dons were slightly surprised by the amount of well wishers who stopped to see if Diego was going to be all right. The Dons assured them that Diego would be fine after a few days of rest and the townspeople left their table with smiles and shoulder clasps.

The Dons were not surprised that the only conversation in the tavern, and the entire pueblo they expected, centered on the fight. Diego had surprised even the Dons who knew his secret. They had never seen Zorro fight so intensely and it was strange seeing Diego with a sword. Gratefully, the only conversations that included both Zorro and Diego involved who would win in a duel between the two men. Surprisingly, it was Diego who seemed to come out the victor a good deal of the time. Still, many agreed the fight would be even more wondrous then the one they had just witnessed. It was strange, many admitted, seeing Diego fight. He was truly his father's son they decided, spirit and all. The vaqueros, the Indians, and the farmers all wondered if Diego would keep his sword or if he would set it aside and resume his usual persona. Many departed company wondering what the next weeks would bring for the de la Vegas and almost all said a blessing for Diego.

Don Carlos excused himself from the table and turned to the stairs. Doctor Hernandez had promised to return within a few hours and Carlos expected him any minute. Before going to Diego's room, Don Carlos grabbed a pitcher of fresh water and two cups. He climbed the stairs and knocked softly on the door. Don Fernando opened the oak door and stepped outside into the hall. "I was just coming down. Alejandro is sleeping and so is Diego. I will wake Alejandro when Doctor Hernandez arrives. Has Monastario been here?"

Don Carlos shook his head. "No…and that has me worried. I expected him to come raving about Zorro and the death of Ignacio, but it has been quiet. He has me worried."  
"One can not trust our Commandante. He always seems to be planning something. Well, there is little we can do about it. I will meet you down stairs. I am sure Alejandro will appreciate some cool water when he awakens." Fernando stepped around Carlos and moved leisurely down the hall. He was tired and his body ached. _I am too old for so much exciteme_n_t_ he chided himself as he took the steps slowly. The tavern was deserted except for the other Dons and the innkeeper.

The stout innkeeper stood behind the counter, his had idly wiping at the counter with a rag. He turned his dark head to the stairs when Fernando stepped out of the shadows. "Would you care for a drink? Wine or lemonade?"

"Sí, lemonade is fine. Gracias." Fernando sat in the wooden chair and leaned heavily against the back. He looked at the men around the table. They looked tired but none seemed ready to go home.

Armando spoke quietly, "We have decided to stay the night. I don't want to take a chance that Monastario will try something. Doctor Hernandez said he would let us know when Diego could be moved to the hacienda. He should be here soon. I know I would feel better if Diego was at the hacienda. I am sure you would as well. It will do both Alejandro and Diego good to be at home where everything seems normal."

Armando's voice lowered, "Ignacio will be buried at first light. The sooner it is done the sooner things go back to how they should be. The last few weeks have been quiet the ordeal. Oh…a vaquero brought word that Bernardo is awake and doing fine. He should be out of bed in a day or two. I gave the vaquero a letter for Bernardo explaining what has happened. It will be good for Diego to know his friend is healing…"  
Armando stopped his words as the tavern door flew open. Two soldiers filled the opening and Armando and the other Dons stood and faced the doorway. The soldiers parted as they entered and behind them Monastario stepped into the room, his figure dark against the night sky. Monastario took in the defensive stances of the Dons and the warning looks they gave him, but he ignored them. They were no threat to him. At least not yet. Monastario knew he could do nothing against Diego until he had proof. He was certain the masked bandit had been a decoy. There was something wrong about him and Monastario had spent the last few hours trying to figure out what it was. He could not pinpoint what was off about the man, but that did not ease the feeling that the man in the mask was not truly the Fox.

Monastario brushed passed his entourage and stepped further into the room. A smile crossed his lips as the Dons shifted toward the stairs. The Capitán ignored the unspoken threat and strode boldly toward the stairs. He had some questions for Diego and he would not wait until tomorrow or the next day. A man had been killed, and while Monastario knew it was Ignacio who forced his own death, Monastario was not about to let that stop him from barraging Diego with questions about the duel and Ignacio's death. The Commandante was hoping to get evidence he could use against Diego. What that evidence would be and how he would obtain it, Monastario did not know. But he was certain he would find something out if he spoke with Diego.

Monastario's smile vanished as he found himself blocked by four Dons. "You will move out of my way," Monastario threatened, his voice low.

"Diego is sleeping and we have strict orders from Doctor Hernandez that he is not to be disturbed. If you wish to talk to Diego you are going to have to wait until he gets better. You may wait for Doctor Hernandez if you like, he should be here within the next half hour," Don Fernando told the Commandante.

"I must ask Diego some official questions about what happened in the plaza. You are obstructing my efforts and I will have you arrested if you do not move." Monastario threatened as he took another step closer.

Don Carlos spoke as he descended the stairs. "Why are you just now coming to see Diego? It has been nearly three hours since the fight. Surely, if it was urgent you would have been here within the hour. If it has waited this long, Commandante, it can wait until morning –late in the morning."

Monastario glared at Carlos and the other men. He only had two soldiers with him and he knew they would be unable to arrest the five men. Reluctantly, Monastario stepped back. I could go and fetch that incompetent Sergeant, he thought, but that would take too much time and effort. Monastario narrowed his eyes even further and crossed his arms. He had given up on questioning Diego once before; he was not about to back down again.

Unfortunately for Monastario, Doctor Hernandez arrived. He looked at Monastario and squared his shoulders. "You are not to talk to Diego until late tomorrow. The man is wounded and sleeping. I will not have you disturbing my patients. Whatever you were going to ask him tonight can be asked tomorrow. I will let you know when you can talk to him, but tonight, Diego is sleeping and he will not be disturbed."

The Commandante turned to the Doctor, a retort on his lips, but he swallowed his words. It would not do to make the good Doctor your enemy, especially considering he was one of only a few good doctors within a weeks travel. Monastario was mostly certain the doctor would not put his men's lives in jeopardy for something he did, but the Capitán was not about to take a chance. Monastario turned on his heels and his two men fell in behind him. Monastario paused at the door. "I will talk to Diego tomorrow even if I have to bring the entire garrison."

"That man," Doctor Hernandez mumbled as he moved toward the stairs, his black bag clutched in his left hand. "I will be down as soon as I am done." Turning to the innkeeper he asked, "Do you think I could have a late supper when I come down? Anything is fine." Doctor Hernandez smiled as the large man nodded.

Alejandro was slumped in his chair, his head resting on the hard wood and his right hand caught in Diego's hair. Doctor Hernandez watched the sleeping figure for a moment before he gently shook him, "Alejandro."

Alejandro opened his eyes and looked at the tired face of his old friend. Alejandro rubbed his face with his palms trying to wipe away the sleepy feeling that clung to his mind. He stood on wobbly legs and moved to the chair in the corner. He watched as Doctor Hernandez checked the stab wound and replaced the bandage. Diego stirred but did not awaken and Alejandro breathed a sigh of relief. Diego needed rest and he was glad he was sleeping. "How long will the tea make him sleep?"

"Normally only a couple of hours, but Diego is exhausted. Hopefully he will sleep until morning. Sleep is very important and Diego needs to rest tonight if we are going to move him to the hacienda tomorrow. It is not a bad wound, but with something this deep, I am worried about an infection. It is important for Diego to rest and eat. I will have some broth brought up in the morning. If he wakes in the night, give him some more tea.

"Come down stairs and have supper with me. I have not eaten. Don Carlos and the others are waiting to hear about Diego. There is nothing you can do for him. He should sleep for the next couple of hours." Doctor Hernandez bent and retrieved his bag. He stuffed the remaining bandages into his bag and closed the top before turning toward the door. Alejandro stood for a moment watching his son, but he turned and followed the doctor down stairs.

As Alejandro descended the stairs he realized that it was finally over. Diego was safe and Ignacio was out of their lives forever. While Alejandro knew things would never be the same, he recognized that some things had changed for the better – most notably his relationship with his son. Even if they had to contend with Monastario in the future, Alejandro knew in his heart they could outsmart him. For the first time in several months, Alejandro felt like things were falling into place and that nothing could destroy the relationship he was forming with Diego, the real Diego. No matter what Diego decided, Alejandro would accept his son's choice. If he could chose, however, he would ask Diego to lay down his sword once again. Zorro was the fighter, the hero. Alejandro was satisfied with his son playing the role of poet and scholar.

**ZZZ**

A soft light fell across Diego's eyes and he turned away from the offending sun. His head felt heavy this morning and his leg was stiff and sore. Diego licked his dry lips and winced slightly when his tongue found the swollen gash on his lower lip. Reluctantly he pulled himself into a sitting position and rested his head on the wall. It took him a moment to realize he was in the tavern. His fight with Ignacio was fresh in his mind, but the events afterward were hazy. Guilt burned through Diego with surprising intensity and he closed his eyes against it. _There was nothing I could do_, he rationalized to himself, but the feeling did not leave him.

Resigned that he would have to live with the emotion, at least for a while yet, he looked around the room for a distraction. A pitcher of water sat on the night stand and Diego gratefully filled the cup beside it. He savored the cool water on his parched throat and lips. The sun filtered through a curtain, but Diego guessed it was early morning. The tavern was still quiet and Diego heard few noises outside the window. Shifting his body, he pulled the covers away from his legs and looked at the white bandage wrapped neatly around his thigh. Diego probed the wound tenderly and winced slightly at the pain. _Stupid_, he chided himself. _I never should have trusted Ignacio. I played into his hands and it nearly cost me everything._

Diego wondered suddenly if his secret was safe. Had Monastario seen through the diversion or did he believe the masked man he saw was truly El Zorro? Diego hoped the man believed Ramiro had been Zorro; otherwise, Diego was certain Monastario would not wait long before he arrested him. While he may have survived his encounter with Ignacio, Diego could not forget the threat of the Commandante and his accusations. Perhaps if he became the foppish, passive Don he had been since his return from Spain, the Commandante would lose interest and find someone else to harass. _No,_ Diego thought, _I would not want someone else to suffer because I am Zorro._

Diego suddenly remembered Bernardo. Doctor Hernandez had assured Diego that Bernardo was fine and that he would recover quickly, but Diego would not be satisfied until he saw his friend with his own eyes. Perhaps he could talk his father into letting him return home today. His wounds were not serious and he would be more comfortable in his own room. Besides, he had to take care of Tornado. With Bernardo wounded and in bed, there was no one else to see to the horse. Except perhaps his father. Alejandro had been around Tornado before and the horse trusted him. A smile crossed Diego's lips and he felt the skin around the cut pull, but he held the smile despite the slight pain.

Alejandro found Diego sitting up in bed, a smile showing his white teeth. "Mí hijo. You are awake. It is good to see you smiling, but I had not expected you to be jovial today."

Diego's smile faltered but he replaced it with a slighter version. It eased the tension on his cut lip and reassured his father. "I was thinking of you. Well at least, something you could do for me." Alejandro looked puzzled as he crossed the room, he arched an eyebrow and Diego continued. "I will be confined bed no doubt for several days and Bernardo is still healing. I would like for you to take care of Tornado."  
Alejandro's eyes were large and the light of the rising sun made them shine. He smiled to his son as he nodded, "I would love to help with Tornado."

"Gracias. Give him an apple and he will follow you around like a faithful puppy." Both men laughed at the thought of Tornado trailing behind Alejandro begging for a treat. Their carefree moment was shattered as a knock sounded at the door. "Enter."

Doctor Hernandez stepped into the room. His face lit up to see Diego sitting in bed, a bemused smile on his lips. "I see you are feeling better. I came to check on your leg. How does it feel?"

"Stiff and a little sore, but otherwise it feels fine."

"No sharp pains or cramping?" Doctor Hernandez inquired as he removed the bandage. He nodded in satisfaction at the healing wound and rewrapped it with a clean bandage. "What about your ribs?"

"Nada," Diego replied. He touched his ribs and felt little pain. The cut was shallow and more of a nuisance than anything else.

"Good. You should be fine in a week or two. Stay off the leg as much as you can, especially for the first week. Let me know if you have any problems. Change the dressing daily and I will give you a poultice in case of infection. You can go home later this afternoon, but I want you to rest until then. Monastario is likely to stop by soon to ask you some questions. Don't forget Diego, we are behind you no matter what happens." Doctor Hernandez packed his bag and left. The door shut quietly behind him.

Diego felt his eyelids droop and he squirmed into the covers. Alejandro sat by his son's side until he fell back to sleep. He didn't expect Diego to sleep long so he went downstairs to find his son breakfast and to get himself a glass of orange juice. Don Fernando and the others were seated around a large table, enjoying fresh eggs and fruit as Alejandro entered the common room. He joined his friends and was barely through his plate when Monastario entered the tavern. Sergeant Garcia filled the doorway behind the Capitán.

Monastario saw Alejandro and pointedly ignored him. He turned toward the stairs and crossed the room swiftly. Alejandro and the others rose to follow him. Monastario was at the top of the stairs before they cleared the common room which was now packed with early travelers, farmers, and merchants. Monastario flung the first door open and smiled when he saw the Don lying in the bed. Crossing the room swiftly, Monastario tapped Diego's check. "Wake up, Diego. I want to ask you some questions," Monastario ordered, triumph laced his words.

Diego stirred slowly and opened his hazel eyes to stare into the piercing gaze of Capitán Monastario. "I know you are Zorro Diego. That cheap trick last night was useless. I do not know who that man was, but he was not Zorro."

**TBC**


	25. Chapter 25

Diego sat up slowly. "What are you talking about Commandante?"

"If you think that I am going to fall for such a simple trick, Diego, you are mistaken. I am not as stupid as you seem to think. That was not Zorro last night."

"If it wasn't Zorro then who was it?" Diego asked innocently as he sat up and leaned against the headboard for support.

"That is what you are going to tell me." Monastario glared at Alejandro as he stepped between him and Diego. Don Carlos stood at Monastario's right side and Sergeant Garcia edged toward his left, his large body crowding the Commandante, but he ignored the man's presence and instead focused on the Dons who were still filing into the room. "This is not your concern. I am questioning Diego and if you don't want to spend the rest of the day in prison, you will not try to hinder me."

Alejandro suppressed the urge to yell at the daft man. Instead, he inhaled deeply and calmed his nerves before speaking. "Diego is injured. Doctor Hernandez said you could see Diego late this morning. He has not even had breakfast. You may ask Diego any question you wish after he has eaten and freshened up. Now…get out."

"No. You have no authority to give me an order. I have had enough of you and your friends threatening me. You may be Dons, but you have very little real power. I am a government official and I will not let you or anyone else stand in my way. Zorro will be in my custody very shortly, gentlemen, and there is little you can do to stop me." Monastario straightened his back and his hand shifted to his sword. He may not be able to beat Diego but he knew he could handle the other Dons, at least with Garcia's aid. The Commandante cast a quick glance at his sergeant and his eyes widen in shock. Garcia had shifted to the other side of the bed and was adjusting Diego's coverlet. "Garcia…stop that. I want you to arrest any man who interferes with my questioning."

"But Commandante, Alejandro said Doctor Hernandez forbid you questioning him until after he had eaten breakfast. It should not take long…I will go to the kitchen and bring him something to eat." Garcia was nearly to the door before Monastario stopped him.

"Sergeant. If you step out that door do not come back. I will simply find a new Sergeant who obeys orders." The Capítan's face was red and his eyes dark as he glared at Sergeant Garcia. Monastario felt as if the world was against him. Even his own man was a nuisance. He did not care who tried to stop him, short of being dragged from the room Monastario was not leaving until he had finished questioning Diego. And then…and then he would be back with a squad to arrest Diego for treason.

Diego waved his father aside. "It is fine, Father. Let the Commandante ask his questions. I would rather be finished so I can go home. Now what did you want to know?"

Monastario felt his anger rise. Diego seemed so confident and so relaxed as though he had nothing to fear. _He will not be so confident when he is standing on the gallows._ Another thought came to Monastario but he dismissed it quickly. Diego was Zorro despite the innocence he was portraying. Crossing his arms Monastario repeated his question. "Who was the man behind the mask?"

Diego knew this was going to have to be one of his best performances. He had played the part of the innocent Diego for years, and now he was truly being put to the test. Diego looked at Monastario with amused eyes and laughed slightly. "Do you truly think I know Los Angeles greatest secret? I have only spoken to Zorro a couple of times. And in those few moments he did not see fit to divulge his identity. I would help you if I could, Commandante, he is after all an outlaw. But I fear I am at a loss."

Monastario growled between clenched teeth. How could one man be so infuriating? "I think you know who the masked bandit is because you asked him to play the part of the cunning Fox. You are the real Zorro, Diego, and I want an answer to my previous question. Who was the horseman?"

Diego was truly annoyed at the persistence of the man. He would turn himself in long before he gave Monastario Ramiro's name. "As I have said, I do not know. I am not Zorro nor am I in league with the man. Let me ask you question. Every man, woman, and child in the pueblo knew that man was Zorro. They have cheered him and watched him since the beginning. They know his moves, his voice, his words, do you really think most of the pueblo could be fooled. And what of your own soldiers? Ask them. I am certain they will tell you that the man in the mask and cape was indeed Zorro. The soldiers have been chasing him long enough to know if it is the real Zorro or not."

Turning to Garcia, Diego addressed him, "What of you Sergeant. Do you think someone was playing the part of El Zorro or was that truly the masked bandito?"

Garcia looked around the room. Everyone stood watching him and he fidgeted under their watchful gazes. The Commandante stood with his arms crossed, his dark brown eyes focused solely on Garcia. Hesitantly Garcia answered his voice deep and wavering, "Sí, it was the real Zorro. I have chased him enough to know what he looks like and I have talked to him several times. It was him. I would swear it." Garcia said. He bowed his head under the penetrating gaze of his Capitán.

"Garcia you are an idiot." Monastario fumed. Perhaps, he admitted reluctantly, he was mistaken. Was he so determined to capture Zorro that he was imagining things that were not there. Diego did look innocent as he laid there, his dark hair over his forehead and his face slightly flushed. Looking at him now, Monastario could not picture the man as Zorro. Last night, in the shadows of the evening, Diego had looked the part of hero and legend. His sword moved with a grace and speed Monastario had rarely seen. Aside from Ignacio, Zorro was the only other master swordsman he had encountered. Perhaps there could be three masters. After all, Diego would not fight until his servant was injured. In Monastario's mind this was not the act of a warrior. But as he had rationalized last night, Diego had simply been playing his part of passive Don.

Doubt crept further into Monastario's mind but he pushed it aside. Even if he was wrong, he was going to finish his questioning. He simply could not shake the feeling that Diego was Zorro. "Why had Zorro not come to your aid before? Why didn't he search for Bernardo?"

"Simple. I told no one save the men in this room. They did not know how to get a message to Zorro and I found Bernardo before Zorro heard the news. He did not have time to help."

A sudden thought came to Diego and he continued before Monastario could ask another question. "I heard Zorro had ridden after the men who attacked me last month. Although he did not find them he still looked for them. I was still in bed and injured. I was unable to ride, yet your soldiers saw Zorro riding the hills. If I am Zorro, how could I have been in bed and in the hills at the same time? I am not Zorro, Commandante. He is a man to be admired and respected. But I am not a fighter. I may know how to fight, but I prefer to keep to my studies and my writing. I was born a scholar, Capitán, but I was taught to fight. I do not enjoy it - at least not since the incident with Benicio and Arturo."

Monastario shifted his weight to his left foot. Was Diego telling the truth? Monastario did not know. He had come prepared to arrest Diego, but now…now he was not so certain Diego was Zorro. The man seemed to be telling the truth and Monastario could not find any fault in his answer. His mind told him that perhaps he was wrong, that Diego was simply Diego and Zorro was still beyond the Capitán's grasp. But his instincts told him he was right, that the educated and studious Don was the masked bandit, that the cunning Fox was simply playing one more game.

Monastario decided to act on his instinct. He had spent to many years all ready chasing the shadows and dust of Zorro to let him slip away now. One more try, he reasoned. One more try to get the man to say something that would entrap him. If this didn't work, he argued to himself, he would simply sit back and watch and wait for Diego to mess up. Sooner or later the masked bandit would falter and Monastario would close in and ensnare the Fox. "You are a great actor Diego. I applaud you. I have seen few who could put on a performance like you have all these years. It must have been difficult to hide behind that stoic façade, to squelch the urge to feel for the peons and to raise your arm in defense. You are your father's son, Diego, I am certain of that. But what better way to hide your exploits than to become the complete opposite of your counterpart, to hide in the open, as clear as the sun in summer."

"I do not wear two faces, Commandante. I may not be the man everyone thought I should be, but that does not change the fact that I am simply a scholar and poet. I help the vaqueros, the Indians, and the peons as much as I can. I may not raise my hand in action, but I help them to regain their feet. I do fight Commandante, just not how you or my father fight."

Alejandro smiled at his son. _If only I had realized that sooner_, Alejandro chided himself, _I could have saved both me and Diego some grief_. Alejandro, while he was worried about Monastario, knew that the Dons of Los Angeles and others in Lower California would not let any harm come to Diego. Monastario may not believe they hold the power to stop him, but Alejandro knew that many of the Dons held the confidence of magistrates, military officials, and even the Governor. Alejandro himself knew the Governor of California and was prepared to write a letter explaining the situation and requesting the governor's interference. The letter was all ready written and ready to be delivered to Governor Hidalgo Sanchez the moment Monastario made the wrong move. Don Carlos was a good friend of the Lieutenant Governor and he was also willing write to his friend in Diego's behalf.

"Sí, mi Capitán. Diego is right. I have seen him help many people, myself included. He is not Zorro Commandante. I would know. I have talked to Zorro many times and would know if my good friend was Zorro." Sergeant Garcia spoke up from the side of the bed.

"Garcia, you would not know who Zorro was if he announced himself and unmasked before your eyes." Monastario retorted. Garcia looked hurt at the reproach and he turned his dark eyes to the bed cover, focusing on the ivy pattern that curled up the white cloth.

"Commandante, how is it that everyone else can see the truth but you. No one else suspects me of being Zorro. Your soldiers have chased Zorro for years yet they had no doubt it was Zorro who was in the plaza yesterday. Only you seem sure I am Zorro when everyone else knows I am not. I have no doubt you will catch the Fox one day, Commandante, but it will do you little good arresting the wrong man."

Don Alejandro spoke before Monastario could answer Diego. "Monastario," Alejandro started, ignoring the man's title, "do you really believe Diego would tell so many his secret. That seems a dangerous move for such a cunning man. Yet everyone in this room will agree that Diego is not Zorro. Perhaps you are so consumed with capturing the man that you have become blind and are only able to see what you wish to see. You will stop at nothing to capture Zorro, even if it means arresting the wrong man. You may not think we have power, Capitán, but arrest Diego without solid proof and you will find out how powerful we truly are. Our influence is far reaching and some have the ears and friendship of high government officials, far beyond your rank."

Monastario blinked and looked around the room. The Dons had stepped closer and Monastario understood the threat. He could not win, he realized. Diego was beyond his reach for now. It would take more than a simple feeling to arrest Diego. Still, Monastario was certain Diego was Zorro and he vowed silently that he would see Diego unmasked, no matter how many years it took. One day, the cunning and quick witted Fox would slip and Monastario would be waiting to slide the rope over his neck. "I will find the proof, gentlemen. Diego will hang from the gallows for his crimes. I will see to it personally. I will be watching you Diego. You can not escape my grasp forever."

Although Diego was anxious he forced his voice to remain calm and bemused. "I fear Commandante that it will be a long wait. I am not Zorro."

Monastario, his eyes dark and large, glared at Diego for a moment before spinning on his heels and marching out of the room. Garcia scrambled after his officer, but not before wishing Diego well and apologizing for Commandante Monastario's behavior.

Diego let out a deep breath when the Commandante's boots faded from the hall. Don Ramiro looked down the hall and saw no one. He nodded and spoke quietly, "He has left. Well, the second floor anyway. Who knows what that man is doing? He has no proof against Diego yet he is willing to arrest him. We can not trust him. That man is dangerous. It is best to keep an eye on him for a while. I would not put much past him."

"Sí, I agree. But for now I don't think he is going to do anything. As much as he wants to capture Zorro, he still values his pride and his honour more. He will not do anything that could damage his reputation and his career. We must be careful though. Everyone must take great cares not to give him the proof he so desperately wants." Diego said as he shifted and readjusted his leg on the bed. It was throbbing dully and his eyes felt heavy.

Alejandro noticed Diego's movement and stepped beside the bed grabbing a pillow and placing it under Diego's knee. "Is that better Diego?"

"Sí. Gracias, Father. When did Doctor Hernandez say he will be back? I would like to get home and see how Bernardo is doing. He is probably worried about me." Diego stated as he stifled a yawn.

"I think it is best if we let you get some rest, mi hijo. You seem tired. Doctor Hernandez promised to let you go home today, but not until he has seen to your leg. We will bring breakfast for you in a couple of hours." Alejandro and the others bid Diego goodbye and headed to the common room to have breakfast. Their conversation centered on Diego and his future as Zorro. All agreed he would have to be extremely careful and that Monastario would undoubtedly stir up more trouble than usual.

Despite his fatigue, it took Diego a long time to fall back to sleep. Images of yesterday's fight echoed in his mind and he replayed Ignacio's death over and over in his head trying to decide if he could have saved the man. Diego knew there had to have been something he could have done, but he could think of nothing. Frustrated, he slammed his fist into the sheet covers and cursed lightly under his breath. Ignacio was right…he would haunt Diego for a long time. Diego finally fell into a fitful sleep, his dreams laced with red and black.

**ZZZ**

Bernardo was sitting in the garden when Diego arrived home. Diego was glad to see his friend healing and under the afternoon sun, amid the sweet smell of roses and the light touch of a warm breeze, Diego told his friend about Ignacio and their ill-fated duel. Bernardo nodded occasionally and his eyes grew large as Diego described Ignacio's last few minutes. Bernardo tried to comfort his friend but he knew Diego would blame himself for Ignacio's death. Bernardo was certain there was nothing Diego could have done. The Don would not have taken Ignacio's life by choice.

Bernardo was worried about Monastario. He knew Diego was not telling him everything and he had heard Ramiro and Don Carlos whispering about the Capitán. For now though, Bernardo was positive everything would be fine. The warm sun gave him hope that Monastario would not be any trouble and Bernardo had faith that Diego could work his way out of any trap. Smiling slightly, Bernardo leaned back and let the sun warm his face. He could sense Diego beside him and he knew the younger man was also leaning back on the bench. _Everything will be fine_, Bernardo told himself as he drifted into a light slumber.

**ZZZ**

It had been two months since Ignacio's death and the pueblo had all ready forgotten the ill-tempered man and his flashing sword. They were too pre-occupied with their farms and herds, the unforgiving weather and their families to stay concerned over a fight among the Dons. Men and children still whispered of the fight and some wondered why Diego refused to carry a weapon, but they were glad they had seen such swordsmanship. But most thought little about Diego once again putting away his sword and becoming the man they knew, the man they respected, and the man they had come to admire. Things had returned to normal and the people of Los Angeles were grateful.

Diego sat in the tavern with his father and Bernardo, cool glasses of lemonade sat before them. While the peons and vaqueros thought little of recent events, Diego barely let his mind stray far from thoughts of Ignacio, Benicio, and his friend Arturo. Zorro found little rest as well. Monastario was keeping the cunning Fox busy with ridiculous taxes, false accusations against the peons, and a number of threats to those the Commandante felt knew something about Zorro. Diego had been cautious the last couple of months and had ridden only when necessary. The last week had been calm and Diego was grateful for the respite. He hoped only that Monastario had finally given up on his schemes to find evidence against Zorro.

A deep voice distracted Diego from his thoughts and he turned to see Garcia standing in the doorway. Diego waved the good Sergeant over and his friend sat gratefully. Diego ordered a bottle of wine and Sergeant Garcia, his face bright and merry, smiled at his friend. "Ahh…gracias Diego. I have been busy all morning. Capitán Monastario is heading to Monterey tomorrow and I have been making arrangements for his departure."  
Diego was curious at the sudden departure, "Why is the good Capitán leaving us?" Diego asked as Garcia poured a glass of wine.

"There have been some supply issues and the Commandante decided to take care of the problem personally." Garcia's deep voice dropped to a whisper, "I think he just wants to get away from the pueblo. He keeps yelling at me for not having captured Zorro. I think he has finally figured out he is not going to catch El Zorro." Garcia looked thoughtful, his dark eyebrows arched upward for a moment and he leaned into the table, his elbows resting on the rough surface. "Perhaps he will return to Spain."

Alejandro looked surprised, "What makes you think that Sergeant?"

"He does not like our pueblo, I think. Oh well, he will be back in a months time." Garcia's face lit up with a soft humour and his eyes grew large, "Maybe I will have Zorro behind bars before he returns. Perhaps I should just ask Zorro to give himself up as a favor to me. He is a kind gentleman and he always helps those in need. The Commandante has ordered Zorro's arrest while he is in Monterey. Surely Zorro will see that I need his assistance. Do you think it would work, Diego?" Garcia asked hopefully.

Diego laughed lightly and even Alejandro chuckled at the innocent expression on Garcia's face. "I doubt it my friend. But you can ask him next time you see him. I am sure he will consider your problem."

"Sí, I think you are right Diego. The next time I talk to Zorro I will ask him to give himself up. If I explain that I need his help he might surrender." Sergeant Garcia poured another glass of wine and smiled. Alejandro changed the subject and the Sergeant began a conversation with him about what to order for lunch.

Diego sat back and laughed silently to himself. Monastario had traveled to Monterey at the start of Diego's problems and Diego hoped this was an indication that his troubles were truly ending. _Everything comes full circle_, he mused to himself. Diego joined the conversation, his heart lighter than it had been in months. He had a feeling that things were once again returning to normal. He prayed that things would remain that way once Monastario returned. _It is best to take things as they come_. Time, Diego knew, would heal the wounds Ignacio had left, but for now, he decided, he was simply going to enjoy another glass of lemonade and listen to the jovial conversation of his friend.

**El Fin**

**A/N: Thanks to all those who took the time to read my story and a special thanks to all those who reviewed. I really appreciated all your comments. I hope you enjoyed the story. **

**I struggled with this final chapter so if there is anything that just seems off or if something is missing please let me know. I plan to eventually go through and edit the story so let me know what you think could or should be changed. Any comments are welcome - just be kind :)**


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